Never Knew 2: Second Chances
by AphroditeLove
Summary: After Marik has been banished, Ryou's life is filled with loneliness and despair. A consolation appears as Bakura is needed in the Memory World and going back, but who does Ryou need, and will he come back? [YMxR][YBxM] Yaoi.
1. Loneliness

THERE IS A SEQUEL, PEOPLE! There is a sequal! And Marik comes back, get it? Marik comes back! So no fear!

Anyways, I am proud to give you Never Knew 2: Second Chances. Summary? After Marik's been banished, Ryou's life is tormented with the lonliness he now as to face. The only consolation is that his darker half is soon returning to the Memory World, but who is coming back from it?

So yes, this is a story that has a bit more plot than usual, and a lot more Malik x Bakura moments. There will be possibly some lemons, I'm not too sure, but mostly in this one it's Marik x Ryou fluff and occasional yaoi. Malik and Bakura's relationship is broadened better in this fic.

Disclaimer: No own YGO. this goes through the entire ficcie.

I actually dont know what's Ryou's role in the Memory world, since I haven't actually watched it yet. My theory is that it's his duty to sort of bring Bakura there, since Bakura is indeed a major part of the memory world. This will definitely be a mix between anime and manga; this chapter happens in the later chapters are more significant in the manga. (whew) Okay.

Well, you guys know the pairings. And yes, Malik and Bakura did break up before this fic was started. Just so you know. And this chapter explains a lot about hw Ryou changes after Marik's banishment.

Here we go, Never Knew 2, chapter one!

* * *

Chapter One: Loneliness

Faded by the faint shimmering rays of the moonlight and the crevices of the shadows, the darkness slipped through, awaiting the morning daybreak. This night was dark and blank, veiled by a flittering sheen of pale silver rays, merging as one against the starless sky.

And this darkness…resided…

…in the broken hearts…

…of Ryou and Yami Bakura.

* * *

_"No, Marik! Please don't go!" Ryou cried out. "Please! I love you…don't go!"_

_The Egyptian Darkness paid him no heed, flashing him a deathly glare as he strode towards the metal barrier. Desperately, Ryou flung himself into Marik's waist, clutching on with piteous entreaty._

_"No, Marik!" he cried out again. "Please, don't go…! I love you! Don't leave me alone! Bakura will kill you!"_

_The Darkness was silent, his face contorting into that of rage, of despicable hatred, before his hand arched through the air, and landed hard on Ryou's face. Ryou cried out, sprawling onto the metal floor, his face a violent shade of red as dueling cards scattered throughout the air._

_"A toy…." a voice whispered. 'You're just a toy…just a toy to him…"_

_"No!" Ryou cried, as Marik began to dissipate into nothingness, that hateful, vengeful, violent glare still on his face, his amethyst eyes flashing spitting fire. "NO! Marik! Please come back! Please don't leave me alone! I love you! Don't go…!"_

_"I will destroy him," whispered that voice once more. "Destroy him…right in front of your eyes!"_

_"NO!" Ryou screamed, as darkness began to consume him from the sides. "NO! NO! MARIK!"_

"NO!" Ryou screamed, bolting up, sweat trickling down his body. He panted for a moment, staring into the nothingness of his room, except for the faint glowing of the Millennium Ring, which still hung around his neck.

"No…" Ryou whispered, calming himself down and swallowing. "No…it was…it was all a dream…just a dream…"

Groaning, Ryou leaned forward, placing his forehead upon his palm. "Just…just a dream…"

Sighing deeply, Ryou closed his eyes, his hand still clasped onto his forehead, as he leaned back and settled back upon his pillow. Moonlight filtered through his window, veiled by thin, shady blue curtains, dawning a part of his sheets in a light blue hue.

How many months had passed, since these nightmares ceased? Ryou had already forgotten. How many months had disappeared, since that fateful morning when Malik woke him up on the Battle City blimp, with a grim expression on his face? Ryou didn't even wish to remember.

/…./

Ryou startled a bit, blinking down at his bulky relic, before hesitantly replying back. Since Marik had been gone, the housing spirit within the Ring had been unusually quiet. Not that it bothered Ryou; after all, Yami Bakura had been one of the reasons that Marik and Ryou couldn't develop quite the relationship together. In truth, Ryou was a little relieved that his yami hadn't been more abusive, but although the silence from the thief was unnerving, it calmed Ryou to know that at least Bakura wasn't hurting him.

/…yami/

/Ahou/ Bakura snapped. /You were dreaming./

Ryou groaned sheepishly. /Did I…did I wake you, Bakura-sama/

/Naturally/ came back the biting voice.

Ryou sighed once more, falling back on his pillow and closing his eyes. Timidly, he sighed, before replying tentatively back. He didn't quite want to disrupt the only civil relationship that he and his yami now shared. Though the past experiences with both Ishtals had brought out the worst in both of them, now that Malik and Marik were both gone from either one of their lives, both the Light and the Darkness had made an silent truce as to ignore one another, and speak with forced politeness as to not cause trouble.

/…Is….there…something you wish to say/ Ryou asked weakly.

/You have a fever/ Bakura said lowly. /Treat it, ahou. I don't want any more of your pathetic dreams filtering back into my soul room, do you hear/

Ryou sighed, before blinking, feeling his forehead again. It was … a little hot. /Alright, yami/ he sighed again. /I'll treat it as soon as I can./

/You'd better/ Bakura growled. /Enough of having you screaming in the middle of the night for the last five months, I'm not quite too pleased to know you're getting fever dreams again./

Ryou swallowed, nodding submissively. /Yes, Bakura-sama./

/Good./ The thief snapped simply. And with that the Ring glowed once, before the thief had left Ryou's mind entirely.

Ryou sighed once more, leaning back on his pillow again, before feeling his forehead once more. It was merely a small fever; perhaps he had been pushing himself too hard. He had only recently gotten over his lover's disappearance, the Ishtals' kicking him out, and having Yugi-tachi leave him entirely, on another wondrous trip that Jonouchi, Anzu and Honda had not bothered inviting him along for.

Shuddering, Ryou squeezed his eyes shut, hoping tears wouldn't form once more. He was alone…completely alone…

How he had wished for Marik's arms right then and there. How he had longed for those arms to bring them to the Egyptian's chest, warm and comforting, possessive but protective. How Ryou missed those arms! Those eyes, those lips, those golden bangs!

Poor Ryou. He was completely, and utterly, alone.

Though Malik had still maintained wonderful friendship with the other Light, Bakura was another story. Their once prosperous relationship had been shattered when Malik decided he and Bakura were no longer compatible, for with every day the thief regained more of his memories, the darker Bakura came.

Strangely enough, Bakura didn't lash out on Ryou, didn't hurt Ryou. If anything, he merely gave Malik the cold shoulder, and left entirely, only emerging to use Ryou's body during the night. Ryou had allowed the thief to use his body during the twilight hours, since it was little the thief as asking for compared to before.

How strange that so many changes had occurred during such a short span of time.

Both Ryou and Malik had kept distant friendships from then on. They both knew perfectly well it would be rather difficult to continue being friends, especially when Ryou's darker half couldn't control himself from spitting at the Pharaoh's feet when Malik himself would gladly show off his scars to the king. Even Yami had disappeared for a time.

Sighing once more, feeling his eyes prickle, Ryou stood up, stretching slightly. Next to him, lay his leather coat (where he had gotten if from, he had entirely forgotten), and beneath it, his locked dresser, which contained the presents Marik had left for him.

_"As long as you wear them, or look at them in your times of need, you will know that I'm always there, and will always come back."_

Well, Ryou needed to look at them now.

It was strange. During the period of the last five months, his relationship with his own yami had been…rather odd. It seemed as though since both Ishtals had disappeared from one another's lives, both Bakuras had decided that there was no longer any worth to fight one another. They weren't friends, far from it, still enemies in the darkest part of their hearts, but they accepted one another as who they were: Spirit and Host.

There was always less bloodshed and effort when one has a truce.

And such an unspoken truce was:

Ryou would not fight Bakura when he needed the body, and Bakura would not hurt Ryou if Ryou didn't fight. Simple enough. Soon enough, the thief would grow tired of using such a weakling for a vessel anyway, and return Ryou's body to him. There was not even a chance to use Shadow magic to get rid of Ryou anyway. Since Battle City, Bakura had noticed the little loopholes in his treatment towards Ryou, a rather crucial point. "Hurt the host, ruin your chances to kill the pharaoh." Simple as that. Ryou didn't even seem to have the spiritual energy to fight Bakura off anymore anyways.

Yami Bakura, the fearsome thief of the night, had begun to receive his memories since the Battle City Blimp. He had taken Ryou's body for all usage during twilight hours, leaving Ryou utterly exhausted in the morning. Even then, when Ryou was conscious, Bakura rarely spoke, seemingly deep in his own mysterious, sadistic thoughts for the future. At times Ryou was scared of Bakura like this, so reserved and silent, but the Light passed each day going to bed, thanking any god that Bakura had not hurt him that day.

Now Ryou carefully picked the dresser with a random needle (something he was bound to learn from staying awake at night in his soul room), and was still slightly marveled that nothing was gone. His journal still laid neatly in the center, surrounded by the diamond seashell and the golden bracelet. The locket and the ring were still upon his self, dangling beneath his shirt along with the Sennen Ring.

Carefully, he took out his journal, flipping through it absent-mindedly. The recent pages had been far more mature than he could've ever imagined. His once passionate and excited and vivacious writing had soon been induced to nothing but passive wishes.

_"Bakura's been so quiet lately…and although I don't mind, it unnerves me still to think what he's planning for me eventually," _read one page, "_At times I wish, that if Bakura does eventually destroy me, whether it's to put me in a card or another miniature idol, I just wish I could see Marik again._

_Why am I always so smitten with Marik? He's gone now…and although I miss him, I can't stop living in the past. Bakura and Yami have done so and look at where they are._

_I suppose Malik was right. He and Bakura could never have worked out. But did that mean that Marik and I couldn't work out? Bakura loathed everything Malik stood for: Malik worshipped the gods of Egypt and Bakura spat at their feet. Malik was good now, Bakura was more violent. Malik wanted to give Yami all the treasures including the Sennen Ring…and Bakura wanted them all…_

_…for himself?"_

Sighing, Ryou closed the book, stretching slightly. Though the fever was small, Ryou still felt rather weak, and a little sick. It must've been fatigue. After all, Ryou had been pushing himself very hard lately. With overcoming his denial and acceptance that Marik would never come back, as well as Yami Bakura's and Yami Yugi's approaching departure for the Memory World, _and _his father's recent death and his inheritance and his acceptance at Oxfords…Ryou's life was more than hectic.

So many losses, so much pain.

Taking a deep breath, Ryou decided to take a walk. He knew perfectly well that it was night, very close to the twilight hours, but it didn't matter. Night had become something of an acquaintance with him. He used to love the sun, love the day, but now when Yami Bakura used up all his energy at night, Ryou just never had the time to appreciate the daylight star any longer.

Slipping into his striped T-shirt and jeans, Ryou stretched once more, before grabbing his leather jacket and heading towards the door. He'd better treat the fever soon. At least summer was coming up. He'd get some rest. If he didn't, Bakura's patience might run thin, especially since the Memory World was soon arriving. Bakura would loathe it if his host wasn't up to his best potential in a duel with the pharaoh.

Finally, he reached the front door, and eased it open, meeting with the darkness. A breeze flittered into the house, coaxing his hair with gentle grace. His apartment door was right next to a side entrance, and that door had been left open for a night. He took a deep breath, appreciative of the cool air against his warm forehead, before stepping out into the darkness.

And, making sure his leather jacket was securely buttoned, Ryou stepped down from the steps of the side entrance, and entered the darkness.

* * *

He walked endlessly for some time, simply taking in and basking the effects of a peaceful, serene walk. Shadows loomed and often a figure or two could be seen, looking quite dangerous, but Ryou paid them no heed. Deep within him, he was terrified of walking out so late, but after spending months with Yami Bakura alone, even without Malik's protection, had taught him a thing or two about protecting himself.

Because in this world, Ryou knew, he was alone. Totally, and utterly alone.

By now the darkness did not seem so intimidating. Ryou had witnessed and learned from Bakura first hand too often a time to be afraid of the darkness. And even though now that he and Bakura had finally reached a civil truce, Ryou was still passive. There were things he no longer really wished to do in life.

Even the Ishtals had kicked him out. Well, maybe not kicked him out literally, but things weren't working out with Bakura and Malik. Only Ryou knew the reason to Bakura's change in attitude, and even then, it was merely a slight bit of knowledge. After Bakura and Malik had gotten into the worse fight they had in months, Bakura literally packed up Ryou's bags and left, and Ryou didn't even so much as complain.

"I wish Marik was back," Ryou whispered softly to himself. "I really do. It's so lonely without him."

Suddenly, something launched out from the darkness, and slammed him into the lamp post. He gasped, wincing when he felt something being placed upon his neck. Weakly, he opened his eyes, and saw a shadow leering up at him, a knife nicking his skin.

"Up yours, bastard," the shadow snarled. "Wallet now or I'll slit your throat."

Trying his best not to show that he was shaking, Ryou fumbled about in his pockets, before he realized he actually had no wallet this time.

"I-I'm sorry," Ryou stuttered weakly. "I don't have any money…really…"

"Liar," snapped the shadow, before throwing Ryou gruffly onto the ground. Within moments two other shadows had appeared and pinned Ryou's shoulders upon the ground, despite his attempts to wriggle free. "Check his pockets."

Ryou cringed as he felt hands pat and dive into his pockets, and felt even sicker when they patted the back pockets on his jeans. Moaning inwardly to himself, he hesitantly knocked on the soul room door of Bakura's, but to no avail.

"Nothing," one muttered, kicking Ryou absently in the abs. The other did not release Ryou just yet, as the first shadow waved his knife dangerously over Ryou's throat.

"Take the jacket then," he snapped. "Wait. What's this?"

The shadow had seemed to notice the bulky relic hidden beneath Ryou's shirt, and the Light was sickened even further when the shadow ripped his shirt upwards to reveal the jewelry.

"God, GOLD!" the shadow exclaimed. Immediately, his knife went to cut the leather ropes that hung the Sennen Ring from Ryou's neck.

"Oi, boss," the one keeping Ryou pinned down muttered. "Look up there. The kid's neck."

For a moment, Ryou froze. He was indeed, wearing two things around his neck. The first was obviously the Sennen Ring, which Bakura never allowed him to part, but the other was a small, gold locket, from which hung a delicate gold chain….

"No! STOP!" Ryou yelled, flailing with all his might. A shadow growled and the pressure upon his shoulder increased, as another kicked him squarely in the ribs. "NO! STOP!"

"Shut up, bastard," one yelled, clamping a hand over Ryou's mouth. "Scream and die."

Clenching his eyes shut, Ryou waited as the mugger's knife came to his neck, about to cut apart the golden chain. As soon as the blade had scraped across Ryou's skin, up came Ryou's fist and his fingers closed upon the mugger's hand.

There was a "HEY!" before Ryou managed to wrench the knife out of the mugger's hand, and swiftly nicked against the shadow's wrists. The second man immediately jumped away and seethed, as Ryou promptly rolled away from his three thieves, and quickly got up.

/Yami/ he cried. / A little help/

/All the more amusing to see you get out of this/ Yami Bakura replied back calmly, though a smirk was evident on his lips. /Good luck, baka./

/Bakura, please/

/Sorry./

The three shadows stood, baring their teeth. Weakly, Ryou stepped back, holding the knife out with shaking fingers. Okay. Time to let Bakura's lessons kick in. Maybe a little punch would frighten them away. Or a kick. Just enough to make them bleed.

Or he could just do things his way a la Ryou, and run.

Well then, he decided to run.

Throwing the knife towards the shadows, Ryou hastily turned around and ran into a nearby alley, and up the side stairways to the rooftops, as the darkness of the night began to cry.

Of all his luck, it just had to rain.

* * *

Panting and quite out of breath, Ryou sat upon the edge of an apartment building, drawing shaky breaths. This was supposed to be a peaceful walk to allow his fever to retreat! Now all he ended up doing was getting mugged, before running through the entire city of Domino, and scrambling across rooftops to get away from his captors! Great. An escapade a la Ryou avec Bakura's skills.

Oh great. Now as Ryou sat upon the roof, his legs dangling over the side as rain pelted into his hair and drenched his skin, his mind couldn't help but wonder how that could've went if Marik was around.

Ryou never liked getting in such trouble, and he was sure Marik could always take care of him. Perhaps Marik would've shoved him to the side or into his arms, before attacking the opponents with sadistic gusto, instead of doing things a la Ryou and having muggers at his heels while scrambling up stairways and through alleys.

Oh, the things he was forced to do when Bakura got too drunk to get home. Of course, Ryou knew perfectly well Bakura was never too drunk to come home. The darn spirit was just lazy and liked to ridicule Ryou in a tipsy body. The very thought of it made Ryou pout and Bakura chuckle.

Finally managing to catch his breath, Ryou leant over the side. His captors seemed to have given up the chase, and there was only emptiness in sight. Relieved, Ryou grasped onto the locket, holding it with all his life. He could never have let those captors take away the locket. Never! They could've taken away the Ring for all he cared (though he'd have to suffer Bakura's lessons right afterwards), but they were never going to take away the only few things he had left to remember of Marik!

Oh well. He had to count himself lucky. These muggers weren't as bad as the ones last week. Bakura actually had to take over that one time, and ended up having the captors scared petrified. After that, Ryou had expected the worse beating of his life, but Bakura merely slapped him once and left into his soul room. And even then, it wasn't that hard. The red mark didn't even bruise!

Though the thief had been acting more civil and kindly to Ryou lately, the Light still had to tread his ground carefully. No doubt such mercy would lead to something big. Or maybe Bakura just needed Ryou's body in good shape for the Memory World.

Sighing, Ryou stood up, leaving his leather jacket upon the roof. It was his apartment building, ironically enough. His neighbors would know that it belonged to him. "It's that strange Bakura boy's."

However, Ryou was startled out of his passive thoughts, when a voice, cold and menacing, echoed in his mind. For a moment, he thought it was surely Bakura, finally making up for lost time and tormenting him.

/Yami/

/What is it, ahou/

No…though the voice was cold and menacing, Ryou was a little doubtful that it was Bakura's. It wasn't taunting him. It was just scaring him.

_Ryou…Ryou Bakura…_

Shivering with fear, Ryou turned around, desperate to find through the sheets of hail and rain, the source of the voice. Nothing. Nothing but gray blue darkness ahead of him, pelted by the droplets of rain.

_Ryou Bakura, are you afraid, Ryou Bakura?_

Shaking, Ryou nodded at the nothingness, before yelling, "Leave me alone! Who are you? What do you want?"

_You can't escape, Ryou Bakura….._

Terrified, Ryou whipped around and scrambled down the stairways, slipping and tumbling against the cold, metal black bars. He wasn't exactly sure what terrified him of his voice, but even as the voice pursued after him, he could even feel Yami Bakura's wariness of the situation.

_You can't run from your fate, Ryou Bakura…_

Shaking with terror, Ryou managed to stumble down the steps, his hair drenched in rain and blood from the metal bars. His feet pounded through puddles, splashing against the hem of his jeans, as he ran on, hoping to get away from the voice.

_What are you afraid of, Ryou Bakura? This is your fate…surrender to it!_

"NO!" Ryou cried. The usage of both his first name and his surname was beginning to unnerve him. "NO! Leave me alone!"

He continued to run through the night, not even shedding a tear, despite his terror. Who was this voice? What was going on?

Buildings flashed pass, as Ryou continued to run, twisting and turning through alleyways and streets upon random, anything to get away from the cold, icy voice. He ran on blindly, his face passive, though his mind was thumping with terror and regret. What had he done now?

_Ryou Bakura, can you not just hear your fate? _

"What is my fate?" Ryou asked, looking back with fearful eyes. Just ignore it, he thought, ignore the voice, it's just Bakura playing tricks on you, it's just Bakura…

_You have a duty, Ryou Bakura… a duty to serve …_

In the distant, Ryou spied off a church. Instantly, he ran for it, his heart freezing from terror, as the voice continued to follow him. Perhaps it was a demon, or a devil of sorts…perhaps if he entered the church, he would not be harmed by this invisible attacker!

When he managed to reach the church, he stumbled in, closing the oak doors behind him. His skin was soaked to the bone, weighed down by his drenched shirt and pants. He felt so utterly exhausted. Who was this voice?

As he forced himself to calm down, he noticed his surroundings. Long, wooden benches stood between the aisle in the middle. From the front glowed soft, silent candles, upon holders which sat on velvet steps. Beyond that, upon the wall above the alcove where a grail stood alone, was the infamous cross…

Immediately Ryou averted his gaze from the cross. He never had a religion to follow by, and especially now, he didn't dare stare up to any altar or symbol of a worldly known religion. Especially not when his body was possessed by a vengeful, dark demon spirit.

_Ryou…_

Immediately he was startled, for the very same chilling voice was now coming from the altar! The doors behind him made an obvious click, showing that it was locked, and there were no exits. Regaining composure as best as possible, Ryou stared in front of him, focusing his gaze upon the altar.

_Come here, Ryou Bakura…_

Slowly, Ryou took a few steps, his gaze lingering from the altar to the candles. The candles were small, their flames flickering in silence.

_You must surrender to your fate, Ryou Bakura…_

"What is my fate, then?" Ryou asked, looking back at the altar. "What's my fate? What do I have to do?"

_You must deliver your knowledge into the Memory World, Ryou Bakura…_

"My knowledge?" Ryou repeated, looking at the altar with disbelief. All of his fears, terrors and worries dissipated almost immediately, replaced by confusion and wary apprehension. "My knowledge? I'm sorry, but I don't know anything about the Memory World…"

_Yes, you do, Ryou…you know many about the Memory World. You hold the key to open it, to open the war that started once before and left, only to be begun again._

"But that's….but wasn't that Marik?" Ryou asked, confused. "Marik was the opponent Isis predicted. No one else. No one…" Suddenly, Ryou's eyes widened, as a theory occurred to his mind. "No…way….but, I don't have the key! What on earth are you talking about? I can't do this!"

Suddenly, the room was blasted with the invisible voice, booming with authority and sternness.

_YOU HOLD THE KEY, RYOU BAKURA, AND IT IS YOUR DUTY TO OPEN THE MEMORY WORLD WITH IT! _It bellowed. _YOU HOLD THE KEY, AND IT IS YOUR DESTINY! SURRENDER TO IT!_

_  
_"NO!" Ryou yelled, backing away as candles flew into the air. Suddenly, a white hot pain shot through his wrists and up his arms, immobilizing him in a moment of pure agony. "NO! NO! I don't have the key, really, I don't!"

_YOU DO, RYOU BAKURA! DO NOT DENY IT! YOU POSSESS THE KEY AND YOU WILL OPEN THE MEMORY WORLD WITH IT!_

"NOOO!" Ryou cried, as his hair flew into the air, and the stained windows shattered. The holy mosaics upon the windows shattered and flew into the air, mingling with the flying candles and the splintering wooden benches. "NO! Please! I know nothing! Please! STOP!"

There was a long scream from his lips as the Millennium Ring flashed, piercing through his shirt and blinding the church within its golden light. After a while, Ryou's screams died down, and with it, so did the remnants of the church. The shattered windows and glass floated to the floor, clinking next to the shoes of the young teen. Candles clattered softly and went out, and the benches lay on the floor, cracked and splintered.

Slowly, the shadow of the Item holder raised his head, before he smirked.

"And open it, he will," Yami Bakura said.


	2. Friends Reunited

Chapter Two: Friends Reunited

Darkness.

Deep, despairing, menacing, vengeful darkness. The darkness that reached from the corners and loomed over the moon. The darkness that veiled distruction, pain, and death in its wake, that whispered deadly predictions of a terrifying future.

And Bakura loved it.

He strode about along the dark alleyways, swaying and humming in tune with himself. His eyes were rested shut as he walked about the darkness of the night, as one would skip on the way home during the day. Still humming idly, he jumped gracefully onto the sides of stairways, swinging about from them, before landing soundlessly upon the ground, splattering silent pebbles of rain as he did so.

Yet, despite how much he enjoyed living in the darkness, he had to question himself occasionally: did he ever love the darkness so, or was it forced upon him, until he had adapted?

Was he born a nocturnal spirit of the night, greedy and vengeful as any thief, sadistic and murderous as any murderer, or had he been born something different, but the former was just a life he had to learn to live?

Bakura didn't want to think about it.

For months now, he had visions in his sleep of his past; memories filled with burning houses and screaming victims…blood splattered upon mud houses, stones were thrown and struck against helpless mothers and children, while the men were slaughtered without a thought.

Bakura shuddered.

Never had his dreams ever finished what they had started. It was always screams of terror, or flames of flickering amber embers, or the crash of a whip. It never ended, and Bakura never knew exactly how his past had been portrayed as.

Perhaps…perhaps it was better…not to know…

Sighing, Bakura momentarily stopped, staring at the concrete beneath him. No. He had many memories retrieved from the darkness of his soulroom, but for a time, he could only wished he could forget them entirely. He remembered all too well…the massacre…the pain, the suffering…

…watching it, forced to see it, forced to watch ninety-nine of his friends, family, killed and destroyed and boiled before his very eyes. The very thought of it made his heart beat rapidly, before tearing in half, floating to the bottom of his chilled insides.

The Pharaoh would _pay _for what he did. Pay _dearly._

Startled out of his thoughts, Bakura whipped about. His instincts had prickled instantly and almost immediately, he heard sounds of feet thumping rapidly. Two of them in sequence…the other…more distant…

Within seconds, two small shadows had appeared from the darkness of the alleys, heading his way. Smirking, Bakura hopped onto a nearby stairway, wondering idly what these two young immature thieves were doing at possibly three in the morning, when something caught his eye.

One of them was holding a bag, and even from the shadows of the night, Bakura saw a flash of gold.

Without further ado, he leapt down from the metal railing, landing right in front of the two young thieves. They gasped and cried out in fear, and as their faces shone in the light of Bakura's Millennium Ring, he recognized them. Weevil Underwood and Rex Raptor.

"Tsk tsk," he chided lightly, his trademark deranged smirk upon his lips. "I don't think you ought to do that, you know."

"W-whaat?" the green-haired boy asked, his voice strangled.

Closing his eyes, Bakura smirked. "I'm sorry," he said silkly, revealing a fanged tooth, "but, my dear friends…the pharaoh's fate, belongs to me."

He threw out his arms, scattering the two boys onto the ground, before advancing upon them. The poor, regional duelists were frightened frozen, staring as he slowly advanced upon them, his Ring casting delightful shadows across his face.

His smirk dropped.

"_No one,_" he hissed, "will stop this for me, do you hear me? The God Cards are not for you to take, mortal fools." He pulled back, his smirk returning. "Now…what punishment should I deal for you, pathetic mortals? Torture? Death? No, that will be too kind…" he shrugged, the feral smirk still upon his face, glinting a fanged tooth in the moonlight. "Alright then, you pathetic mortals…prepare for the Shadow Realm."

And without further ado, he threw out his hand, the Ring flashing angrily, piercing throughout the darkness as his voice echoed in the dead alleyway.

"PENALTY GAME!"

For a moment, the two duelists screamed in agony, their eyes rolling disturbingly back in their heads. Their screams echoed satisfyingly into Bakura's ear as they echoed long into the night, before gradually falling silent. Once their screams had ceased, the two shadows collapsed at Bakura's feet; empty, cold, and soulless.

Smirking, Bakura picked up the stolen bag. Idly, he reached in and slipped out the God Cards, his smirk of triumph, surpassing his rage to spit upon the graven images of the gods.

"BAKURA!"

Casually, the white haired thief turned around, a mildly interesting look upon his face as he greeted his newcomer. Standing before him, at the entrance of the alleyway, and clad in only pajamas, was no other the pharaoh himself, Yami Yugi.

"Why pharaoh," Bakura greeted, "how nice to see you after so long."  
"Bakura," said Yami lowly, his regal voice echoing against the stillness of the night. "What are you doing here?"

Bakura didn't reply, merely stepping pass the soulless bodies. Yami's eyes widened and flashed momentarily at the limp figures, before those same, ruby red eyes diverted back against Bakura's bloody ones.

With a disgusted snort, and dropping all casualties, Bakura threw the duffel bag towards the pharaoh, followed by the God Cards. Swiftly, Yami caught all of the thrown items, before his gaze lingered from the duffel bag to the God Cards, and then, suspiciously, to Bakura.

The thief had a disgusted look on his face, black leather jacket swishing dramatically out behind him, as he glowered piercingly into Yami's own.

"You ought to be more careful with your valuables, King-sama," Bakura said simply.

Yami continued to gaze calculatingly at Bakura, quite torn between thanking the thief and banishing the albino then and there. The pharaoh had remembered all too clearly the last time he had dueled Bakura; how the thief had risked Ryou's life and mental stability for his own needs. And the duel before that…friends in miniature dolls, stabbing Ryou's own hand on a toy tower…

"What are you doing, Bakura?" Yami repeated, his voice forcefully calm. He didn't quite want another Shadow duel to erupt in the middle of the night…especially when he was still in his pajamas.

Smirking modestly, Bakura closed his eyes and held up his hands in an innocent gesture.

"You're so suspicious, King-sama," Bakura said simply, devoid of any menace. "Honestly, I do feel hurt."  
Yami said nothing once more, continuing to bear his eyes into Bakura's, waiting idly for Bakura to continue. Bakura sighed, feigning exasperation, before he slid a graceful hand into his pocket.

"If it helps you to trust me so, King-sama," said Bakura calmly, "take this, as a token of friendship."

Yami's eyes widened.

"Listen, pharaoh," Bakura continued, his tone seriously low. "Take this. The Final Shadow Game awaits in your memory world. You will need all the Millennium Items in order to get there, and that is not an opportunity I would like to pass up. You and I are the same, you realize. We are both spirits who haunt the Items, from our previous selves in ancient Egypt. Now the final Shadow Game awaits us, and I would gladly do the honours of …"

"…challenging me?" Yami finished, finally looking up from Bakura's outstretched hand and the golden item upon. "I accept," the pharaoh said firmly.

Bakura smirked. "I'm pleased."

With a simple, swift gesture, he threw the item towards the pharaoh. The king caught it just as swiftly, staring at the gift in his hand dumbly as Bakura began to strode away, stepping casually over the limp bodies of Weevil and Rex.

"The Final Memory Game awaits, pharaoh," Bakura called. "And rest assured, we will meet again, and until then, I bid you farewell."

As the ex-pharaoh watched the thief leave the alleyway, Yami eventually rested his eyes upon the gift in his hand. He still couldn't quite believe it.

Bakura had given him the Millennium Eye.

* * *

_I feel so dizzy,_ Ryou thought miserably. _What happened…? Last I remembered….I was walking…it was raining…._

He slipped.

Suddenly Bakura had granted his body back, and Ryou, still so horribly dizzy and caught unawares by the unexpected transfer of souls, slipped against the side of a puddle, and landed forwards onto the ground.

_Oh, why me?_

Groaning, Ryou fought to get back up, hesitantly knocking against the door of Bakura's soulroom. As predicted, there was no answer, and Ryou did not dare to knock any longer, lest he disturb the white-haired thief.

Still, Ryou was still feeling terribly sick and dizzy. Coughing, he struggled to get up, his arms wobbling unsteadily to support his weight, combined by the soaked leather jacket. It was still raining, needle drops sinking into his hair, his hands muddy and his face wet and streaked with dirt. Oh, why couldn't Bakura have just gone home for him?

Sighing exhaustedly, he collapsed back onto the ground, landing right into yet another puddle. Thankfully, this one was much cleaner, and as Ryou distantly thought about getting back up, he couldn't help but cry.

Oh, how he wished Marik were there with him! As Ryou laid there, his cheek and bangs soaking from the water, he couldn't help but drift dizzily into a sort of daydream…he was visioning his wishes: Marik, standing before him, helping him up, draping him with the purple cloak the Darkness always wore. Marik, wrapping him with his arms, nuzzling into his throat, kissing against his cheek.

The mere thought of Marik brought more tears to Ryou's face.

"Ryou, what on earth…?"

Blinking blurrily, Ryou distantly noted that strong hands had slid themselves underneath his arms, and were heaving him up. The voice seemed so familiar…

"H-huh?" was all Ryou could mumble out, his head still thick and swooning. Coughing again, he swayed slightly, before he felt his savior grip him tightly. A pair of lavender eyes slipped into view, large and pastel, golden bangs wet from the rain.

"What on earth are you doing out here?" Malik chided worriedly.  
"H-huh?" Ryou stammered, blinking repeatedly and rubbing one eye. His other arm had been draped around Malik's shoulders, as it seemed, since once Malik stood up properly, Ryou felt as though he was being hoisted upright.

"What are you doing out here?" Malik repeated, his eyes still wide with worry. "Out in the rain?"

How familiar were those words in Ryou's ears. Distinctly, he remembered being on the blimp…it was raining hard, just as hard as it was now…and oh, how Marik had caught him from falling off, and saved him…

"Here," Malik said, interrupting his thoughts. Still supporting Ryou with his shoulders, Malik quickly slipped off his thick black coat, and draped it around Ryou's shoulders. Shivering, Ryou took a step, blinking still as he struggled to focus his eyes.

"Malik…?"

"We're going to my house," Malik said firmly. "Or at least, the yatch. It's closer here. Come on."

Gingerly, the Egyptian took a step forward, and Ryou followed.

* * *

Malik's house was, indeed, very close to the alleyway in which he had found Ryou. Because the house was not lighted, displaying that its occupants were asleep, Malik instead led Ryou to the docks in front of it, where their yatch floated, tied securely to the wooden pillars.

After turning on the lights and instructing Ryou to sit, Malik hurried off to the house, supposedly telling his sister where he was so Isis wouldn't worry. As Ryou sat here, clutching Malik's coat to him, he realized numbly that he was soaking wet, and no doubt it would affect his fever soon.

"Isis says it's okay," Malik called from the entrance of the yatch, shutting the door shut. "Hold on, I'll go get you some tea. It's warm in here, so you can put the coats on the floor if you want. I'll be right back."

Dumbly, Ryou nodded, as Malik crossed the living room from where Ryou sat, and entered the kitchen. As Ryou gingerly peeled away the layers of black, splattering the carpet beneath him in the process, his eyes wandered restlessly around the yatch.

It was a supposedly rather big yatch, since the room Ryou was currently occupying could've easily been bigger than his apartment's living room. Couches sat in a semi-square in the middle, on sandy-yellow carpets. From the windows were deep sand-yellow drapes, matching the carpets, little dangling threads and knots hanging from the ends. Vases of exotic flowers were placed on polished wooden tables, and in the corner, stood an oak dining table, and next to that, a matching dresser and glass cabinet. As Ryou peered closer, he recognized picture frames within the cabinet, all very recent. Malik and Isis on the boat, Rishid and Malik next to the pyramids, Isis and Malik on his motorbike, Rishid and Malik on the docks.

Rishid and Isis kissing.

Blushing, Ryou turned away, his eyes wide as his nose pinked. With a final splatter, he gently placed his own leather coat on top of Malik's, all folded and neat, though soaking wet.

"Tea!" Malik called perkily, carrying a large tea tray into the room. He stood in front of Ryou and noticed his flushed cheeks and tilted his head quizzically.

"What's up? Got a fever?" asked Malik, setting down the tray on the coffee table and sitting next to Ryou. Ryou blushed again.

"Yes, but that's not it," Ryou hastily explained, ducking his head down as he untied his shoes, so his cheeks wouldn't appear to be as red. Malik raised an eyebrow.

"You sure?"

Ryou nodded. "Yep."

"Then why is your face red?" prodded Malik still, wiping Ryou's bangs so that he could feel the albino's forehead. Ryou flushed again. "What, like, did you see Isis and Rishid kiss or something while I was in the kitchen?"

Ryou's face, if possible, turned even redder. Laughing nervously, Ryou pointed to the cabinet, before ducking his face once more and taking off his socks, tucking them into his sopping wet shoes.

After taking one look at the picture in the cabinet, Malik shrugged and snorted. "Oh, yeah…didn't I tell you?"

"Tell me what?" Ryou asked, blinking up at Malik, thankful that the topic had been changed slightly.

"Isis and Rishid are together," Malik said simply.

Ryou blinked repeatedly, his eyes wide.

"Whaat?"

"Yeah," Malik said, smiling. "They're together. Not exactly sure how it started, but I think Rishid had always had a thing for Isis. He's only a few years older than she is, anyways."

"That's…different," was all Ryou could say. Suddenly he caught himself. "Congratulations," he said, smiling.

Malik snorted good-naturedly again. "Nothing to congratulate. They're not going to go further than they've already gone. They don't want to distraught me." He laughed, before blinking curiously at Ryou. "Aren't you going to have some tea?"

"What? Oh!" Ryou exclaimed, before he hurriedly made a move to grab a cup. "Sorry…just still a little dazed…"

"Understandable," Malik replied, leaning over to get a cup himself. "But what on earth were you doing out there, anyways? It's raining and it's nighttime! What were you trying to do, get mugged?"

"Happened," Ryou said dully, plucking in two sugar cubes into his tea, before stirring slightly. Malik made a small spluttering noise.

"You were mugged?" he exclaimed, eyes wide with shock. Ryou nodded, before puling his cup towards him, saucer in one hand and cup in the other.

"Yep," he replied, sighing drearily. "But it's okay," he said hurriedly, noticing Malik's worried glance again. "I'm fine. Got away, and they didn't steal anything or hurt me…very much."

"They hurt you?" Malik seethed. "Where?"

Ryou shook his head. "It's okay. It's not a big deal." He sipped against the rim of the cup, heart swelling gratefully at the taste of the sweet liquid. His eyes lit up. "It's British tea!"

Malik blinked. "It is?"

Nodding, Ryou turned around, a big smile on his face. "Yes! Where on earth did you get it?"

Malik shrugged, making a face that clearly said, 'I don't know.'

"It's the only tea we have," he explained, sitting back against the couch. He smiled. "Well, at least you like it. I thought it tasted differently from the tea we usually drank here in Japan." The Egyptian grinned. "You like it?"

Grinning back, Ryou nodded. "Thanks," he said appreciatively.

Malik smiled. "No problem."

For a few moments, they sat in comfortable silence, broken by occasional sipping of the sweet, hot liquid. Deep in his heart, Ryou was utterly glad to finally taste British tea once more. It had been so long since he had ever drank such a thing, and from the aroma of such a familiar drink brought back so many memories. He sat there, sipping slowly, drinking in everything the liquid had to offer, reliving moments of his family in his head.

Finally, when Ryou had finished his fill of his familiar European tea, he sat back, pulling idly at his damp T-shirt. Malik poked him.

"Shower," he said simply. "You take a shower, and I'll set up your bed."  
Ryou's eyes grew wide again, before he fully understood what Malik was saying. "What?" he exclaimed. "No, no, it's fine, Malik! Really! You've given me enough, I can go home, I don't want to be troublesome…"

"You're not troublesome," Malik said, yawning and stretching. "And I doubt you can go home anytime soon. It's one-thirty in the morning, Ryou. Your apartment's on the other side of town. So up you get, I'll go find you a pair of pajamas."

"But Malik, it really isn't necessary," Ryou insisted. "The tea was good enough, really! I can just go home…"

"No buts, no buts," Malik almost sang, getting up and stretching. "Shower's through the kitchen, and through the right hallway. Towels are on the rack next to the toilet, and I'll probably find you some pajamas by that time."

"But Malik…!"  
"No buts, no buts," Malik sang again, flashing Ryou a wide smile. "Up up! I'm tired too, you know!"

And with that, the darker Light began to usher the protesting Ryou towards the bathroom. Even then, Ryou didn't go quietly, but he did suspect that Malik was having a lot of fun provoking him so like that. So, he played along as well, and the two of them laughed and poked at each other until Ryou had actually managed to get to the bathroom.

"Wait here, I'll get your pajamas," Malik said. "Red knob's hot, and blue knob's cold."

"I know that!" Ryou laughed.

"Hey, I didn't when I first came here," Malik said, laughing too. "People kept on telling me that the Japanese were so advanced that they had rainbow fountains in the toilet bowls."

"What!" Ryou exclaimed.

Malik nodded, looking very amused at the memory. "Not the best thing to say to a thirteen year old who's never even seen a real toilet." He laughed again. "Oh well. Anyways, go take a shower. I'll go set everything up. And if you're not in here when I come back, I'm going to be stalking you around Domino and dragging you back over my shoulder."

Ryou sighed, but smiled. "Fine fine." He looked up. "Thanks, Malik."

Malik smiled too, his own rather soft. "No problem, Ryou."

And with that, Ryou gently closed the door.

* * *

After taking a very relaxing shower and feeling thoroughly refreshened, Malik had slipped a pair of pajamas for Ryou, at which the paler Light pulled them right on. Drying his hair as he stepped out of the bathroom, Ryou walked about restlessly, attempting to find the living room again. When he had finally reached there, he saw Malik pulling out a folded bed from the couch, and slipping a very fluffy-looking comforter onto it.

"Tea's over there," Malik said, pointing to the coffee table, which had been moved to one side. Ryou laughed.

"I'm fine, thank you, Malik," he said, sitting down on the carpet and crossing his legs. Malik had also changed into his bedware, and was absently throwing pillows onto the folded bed. "Thanks," Ryou said again, very sincerely.

"No problem," Malik said, stretching slightly. "There!" he said triumphantly. "A bed for you." He plopped right onto it.

Laughing, Ryou stood up, and sat himself on one side, crossing his legs again and leaning against the pillow. Sighing contentedly, Malik sat up also, leaning against the corner of the couch-and-bed, watching Ryou continue to dry his hair.

"So…what were you doing outside, anyways?" Malik asked.

"Well, I wasn't feeling really well," Ryou explained, absently still drying his thick wet locks. "So, I went out for a walk. It wasn't raining then, so I didn't think it would. Then I got mugged, but I got away…and then after that…" he stopped a bit, remembering the chilling voice that had followed him into such a sacred edifice. "….well, then I sort of blanked out," he said, deciding to skip the entire incident all together. "I think Bakura took control."  
"Bakura?" Malik repeated. For a fleetest instant, Ryou saw Malik had fidgeted, as though wishing to leap up at the name, but forced himself to stay still. "What did Bakura do?"

"Not sure," Ryou said slowly, racking his head for any memories he might've had during Bakura's possession of his body. Malik nodded.

"Ahh…" the Egyptian merely said, before propping his elbows on his crossed legs. Ryou looked at him, noticing the slightly poignant look in his eyes.

"You miss him?" Ryou asked, smiling softly as he continued to shake his locks with his towel.

Malik jerked up, blinking once at Ryou, before re-directing his gaze elsewhere.

"No," he replied, though his eyes told otherwise.

Ryou's eyes grew softer than usual, and deep with slight sadness. Gently, he reached out towards Malik, and laid his hand on the Egyptian's. Malik blinked, staring up at him.  
"You miss him," Ryou said simply, still smiling gently. "I can tell."

"Oh?" asked Malik, trying to look casual, though his lavender eyes looked very melancholic. "How can you tell? We could've never worked out."

"I never thought you guys couldn't," Ryou sighed softly. "I mean, you were the one Bakura first …fell in love with. I could never have imagined that anything could break you two up."

"Even I'm not sure," Malik sighed quietly, drawing his knees up to his chest and hugging them close. "I really don't."

Ryou gave Malik a sympathetic smile, before drawing up his own knees, and hanging the towel around his neck, its soft material limply laid on Ryou's chest. "What happened?"

Malik sighed again, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know," he admitted. "I really don't. I mean, we got off really great after Battle City…but then…lately…I don't know. He just started…he just started to be more distant, and…more…" at this, Malik shrugged helplessly. "I really don't know. I thought we could be together forever…even Isis and Rishid were ready to forgive him for anything, but…then he and I started arguing…I asked him what was wrong, and he denied it. I really don't know, Ryou. I really tried to make it work. I really did."  
"I know you did," Ryou said, nodding, watching Malik with his soft eyes. Sighing silently, Ryou looked away, staring out the window, vaguely noting the crystal droplets that sparkled from the rain. "I don't know why he left, either," Ryou said distantly. "I honestly don't. And I really wish I could help you, Malik…but everytime I ask, he gets mad, and he just…leaves."  
Malik nodded, before he shrugged. "He's violent, I know," Malik said, a rueful smile on his face. "But…" His look turned soft, and wistful. "…he can be…really sweet sometimes, you know? I mean, I doubt if you've ever seen him when he's with me, but…I can really be…myself, around Bakura. I don't have to act like anyone else. I can be me. And sometimes, when we'd talk, he'd smile so much, you'd think he was you. And he's so …funny, sometimes."  
"Funny?" Ryou repeated, blinking. The only 'funny' Bakura was the dry, sarcastic funny. "Funny?"

Malik grinned. "Yeah. I mean, he's always got something to say about anything. I think that's where he gets his talent for speech-saying, but it's funny to listen to what he has to say. Like Yami Yugi, and Yugi, and Anzu…and when he's loose, he can be playful too." He gave Ryou a small, mischievous smile. "And sometimes…when no one's looking…he'd come up from behind me and tickle me like mad."

Ryou laughed. "Yeah…I can just imagine Bakura doing that."

"He used to steal my socks too," Malik said, grinning fully now, his eyes distant but bright at the memories. "I think he found it really amusing. He used to steal my socks when neither of us were looking, and I'd get so pissed, and he'd just hug me, and everything would be all better."  
"Yeah…"

"And when I cried…" Malik continued, his grin turning back into a small, soft smile. "…he'd hold me tight, and I could just cry on his shoulder…and when I couldn't stop crying, he'd pet my hair and whisper words into my ears…" Pausing, Malik took a deep breath. "I know it's so hard to believe…but oh gods, Ryou…Bakura could just be so kind at times. I couldn't imagine crying on anyone else's shoulders, except for you and family."  
Ryou nodded, smiling still. "Yeah," he said distantly, looking away. "Yeah…I never knew…"

Suddenly, Malik snapped his head towards Ryou, a worried look in his eyes.

"Hey…Ryou…?" asked Malik hesitantly. Blinking, Ryou turned back, large, doe brown eyes sparkling curiously.

"Yeah?"

"You know…Marik right?" Malik ventured carefully. "Well…I'm really sorry…" he said, rushed when he noticed Ryou's eyes deaden slightly. "I'm really really sorry. But if I hadn't switched places with him…he would've taken over the world…"

"…and everyone would've suffered in eternal darkness," Ryou finished in a monotone voice. He smiled sadly back up at Malik. "Well…it's okay. I know. Bakura's got the same idea too, but there's no way I can stop him. I just really wished…"

For a moment, Ryou looked away, his voice soft and quiet.

"I just wished…I just wished that that morning, I could've woken up when he left," Ryou whispered. "I just wished, that that day, I could've just woken up and kissed him once more, wishing him good luck. I just wished…" He sighed, looking back down onto his knees. "I just wished…that I could've said 'I love you' one last time."

For a while, silence fell upon them both, as each of them thought deeply about their lost lovers. Even Ryou could feel Bakura's pensive, unsettling emotion, before it was abruptly cut off, and disappeared all together.

"I'm really sorry," Malik said again, his eyes so large that he looked close to tears.

Ryou smiled at his friend, before shaking his head. "It's okay. I should've known he wouldn't stay for long. But at least…"

Gently, Ryou pulled out his locket, showing its beautiful smooth surface.

"I have this to remember him by," Ryou said quietly. "And more. I have diary pages full of the days we spent together, and all the gifts he gave me. So in a way, he didn't really leave me." He looked at Malik. "And in a way, Bakura never really left you. I'm sure, deep inside, Bakura still loves you very much."

Malik merely nodded, staring at the locket in Ryou's hands. "Wow…he really did love you, didn't he?"

Ryou's smile grew a little. "Yes…very much so," he whispered. "He didn't mind me when I cried, either. I suppose Bakura never really liked me because he hated me being so weak, but then again, Bakura was using my body, and it didn't fit his standards. I guess since Marik never really needed me at all in any way, me crying wasn't such a big deal to him. And he's always shown when he was sorry. He would never say it out loud, but he'd always do things to express himself. I guess Marik just wasn't very good at expression his emotions through words."

"Bakura was," Malik said. "He was really good with words, but he never really talked about how he felt, 'cause I guess he never really needed to talk."

"I doubt Marik was," Ryou laughed softly. "He's a doer. Bakura's better when it comes to words."

"Yeah…" Malik said distantly. "Like me, I suppose. I guess it must've been hard to be one's overflowing hatred and end up falling in love."

"Yeah…" Ryou echoed. "It must've been hard. I guess that's why…I guess that's why he left me the first time I said 'I love you.' He didn't like the surprise, or the change. Marik's always liked things when it went his way, expected and predictable, so that when it was anything to worry about, he'd counter it and still reign supreme."

"Like me," Malik said, grinning. "You have no idea how tedious it was for me to research so much to find Yugi and information about all the Sennen Items. I hated it."

Ryou laughed. "I guess Marik didn't. He had a very good way of observing things."

"So does Bakura," Malik said. "But I guess he likes surprises a lot more, eh?"

Ryou chuckled, almost on the verge of laughing dryly. "Oh yes. I don't think Marik did very much. I think he hated it. Because then he'd be concerned about how he'd get out of it, while still reigning supreme and proud. Bakura didn't mind. Surprise? Big deal. Bakura'd just head in straight, and if he lost, he'd come back anyways."

Malik laughed. "I heard Marik call him more persistent than a dirty cockroach."

Ryou giggled. "I heard Bakura call Marik a sick-minded bastard."

Malik laughed. "Wow, that's blunt."

"Bakura's good with words."

Malik giggled. "But it's true though. I mean, Marik is a pervert."

"Marik's called Bakura a…." Hesitating slightly, Ryou leaned into Malik's ear, whispering what on earth did Marik call his darker half. Snickering, Malik said the exact same word at the same time that Ryou whispered the first syllable.

"Ahh, I think he learned that from Bakura at some point, because I don't recall you saying any such thing," Malik giggled.

Ryou blushed, aghast. "Of course not! Malik Ishtal, don't be rude. "

Malik burst into laughter. "Yeah, well, that's what got me into Bakura anyways. He's got a really charming wit about him."

"…"

Malik burst into laughter again. "But I think you've got enough girls cooing you after that, don't you, Ryou?"

Ryou flushed hotly. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Yeah, sure," Malik snorted, leaning back, before he clasped his hands together over his heart. Fluttering his eyelashes like mad and his voice in a high falsetto, he imitated: "Oh, that Ryou Bakura….he's got such a sweet British accent! Oh, goodness, he's European! How classy! Do you think he's ever met the royal family?"

Ryou flushed darkly as Malik laughed again.

"You cannot believe how many girls I hear saying that on the streets," Malik snickered. "But I have to admit, I'm jealous at you for it. You've got a sexy sweet accent."

Again, Ryou turned a deeper crimson. "I speak Japanese like any other normal person!"

Malik giggled. "Yeah, well, they've heard you speak in English class, and they swoon for you, Ryou. 'So cute, so helpless, so smart and so studious, and mysterious and adorable…oh goodness, who'd not want to be with a boy like him?'"

Ryou rolled his eyes. "You make those girls sound like me."

Malik burst out laughing once more. "I think you got that wrong, Ryou."

Ryou flushed again, before he threw his pillow at Malik. "You're embarrassing me!" Ryou cried out, laughing as Malik toppled over the side. Growling playfully, Malik grabbed the pillow and whapped it right back, sufficiently knocking Ryou flat onto the bed. In an instant, Malik had pounced next to Ryou and was tickling him mercilessly.

"Gaaaahh!" Ryou cried out, laughing uncontrollably. "M-Malik, s-stop!"

"You hit me with a pillow," Malik sang, tickling Ryou still. "You hit me with a pillow."

Ryou didn't answer, but instead, rolled on his side, curling up and shielding his face from view. For a moment, Malik momentarily stopped, slightly curious as to what Ryou was doing.

Suddenly, Ryou leapt up and tackled Malik around the stomach, before tickling Malik mercilessly as well.

"D-damn you!" Malik laughed, wriggling from side to side as Ryou lightly ran his fingers up the Egyptian's side. "D-damn you!"

"Uh uh uh," Ryou giggled. "Language, Malik."

"I-I don't give a Ra-damn crap about the language!" Malik laughed, squeezing his eyes shut from the tickle torture. "Oh, gods, stop it, Ryou, it tickles!"

"Must I?" Ryou asked innocently. "If I do, will you stop embarrassing me?" As a precaution, the Briton then ran his fingers mercilessly once again up Malik's shaking ribs.

"O-okay!" Malik shouted. "Okay! I give! No more teasing!"

Giggling, Ryou pulled back, staring at Malik warily in case the Egyptian suddenly decided to tickle _him. _Gasping for breath, Malik turned about, before staring at Ryou accusingly. Ryou replied his friend with a sweet smile.

"Bakura's taught me a few things since Marik's been gone."

"No wonder," Malik muttered. "He used to do that a lot."

Ryou giggled, before he cast a glance at the clock. Gasping, he turned back to Malik.

"Oh, goodness, Malik! It's so late…" he said. "And I have school tomorrow…"

Malik snickered. "Yeah…it is late…okay. We'll go to bed." He stood up, stretching slightly and covering up a largely cute yawn. Ryou giggled again, as he snuggled into the sheets, watching Malik walk towards the side of the living room.

"I usually sleep in the yatch," he explained. "It's got more privacy than the house. Plus, I like the sea." Ryou nodded.

"Goodnight, Malik."

"Goodnight Ryou," Malik replied, stepping into the room. For a moment, Ryou snuggled against his pillow, ready to fall asleep, when Malik poked his head back out again.

"Ryou…?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm…really sorry about Marik," Malik said apologetically. "I really am."

Ryou smiled. "It's okay, Malik," he assured. "It's okay. Go to sleep."

"I know. I just…I felt really bad when you woke up, and when you kept on asking me where Marik was on the blimp…I felt really bad."

"It's okay," Ryou repeated. "I understand. It's been really great tonight, though, Malik. I'm glad we talked again after so long."

"Yeah…" said Malik distantly. Straightening, he stood up, and flicked off the lights, before calling, "Good night!"

"Night!" Ryou called back.

Within a second, Ryou fell asleep.

* * *

Oh, what Ryou whispered to Malik was originally going to be a British slang for an idiot, but my friend told me it was very offensive, so I decided to just have Ryou whisper it out. Plus, I doubt that Ryou would ever say any sort of slang...ever.

Yeah sorry this was crap. I did this really late, and the plot is going really slow, because the ending does a one hundred eighty with the characters, and I have to take time to hint it in the beginning. Don't worry! After like...uh...(counts) fourth or fifth chapter, Marik comes back. All this is just preparing for the ending and the Malik x Bakura fluff that will happen later.

This seemed so choppy, but I haven't had sleep lately but i decided to update anyways, becauase no one seems to have. So this was for you, my dear readers. Sorry if it wasn't up to scratch as usual.

Thanks for reading and reviewing!

oxxoxoxoxo, AprhoditeLove


	3. Normal

Blah, I'm too lazy to write a little blurb for this chapter .But it's progress, so don't expect lime until er...the next or the next after chapter, cause I'm getting plot done here more than romance.

Oh yeah, more angst too. Just a warning people, there's going to be quite a lot of angst in here, but it'll all end in fluffiness in the end. (beams) So it's all good. I just don't want you guys to read this fic and go, "Oh my god, like...he's going to die!" or something, and die yourselves. XD

Okay! Onto the chapter! Uploaded cause no one else on FF dot nnet is updating. No one on this darn site is updating! I NEED YAOI! (is yaoi deprived)

* * *

Chapter Three: Normal

Groaning, Ryou turned over to his side, as his eyelids twitched from the oncoming sun. Did Malik just HAD to place the sofa right in front of the windows? Moaning again, Ryou rolled onto his other side, covering his face with his blanket, mumbling and whining to no one in particular.

"UPPIES, RYOU!"

"GAAH!" Ryou cried out, shocked out of his wits. Instantly, he bolted up, blanket sprawled across the bed, meeting with Malik's wide grin. The Egyptian was kneeling on the bed, a wide grin on his face, as Ryou panted for breath.

"Malik!" the white-haired boy cry out. "Don't you ever do that again!"

Malik giggled. "Sorry," he said, still kneeling on Ryou's bed, as though a child. He poked Ryou. "Get up. Breakfast is in the house with Isis-san. Rishid wanted to cook but Isis threatened to whap him over the head with a frying pan if he did."

"Why?" Ryou asked, a hand still placed over his rapidly beating heart.

"She wants Rishid to feel like a family member," Malik explained. "So she doesn't want him doing too many chores around the house." He poked Ryou again. "UPPIES, Ryou! Isis makes good pancakes!"

"I'd rather prefer pillows," Ryou groaned, wishing he could just flop over and sleep again. Malik snickered, eyeing Ryou curiously.

"What will it take to get you out of bed?" the Egyptian asked mischievously.

"Nothing," Ryou muttered, a pillow draped over his eyes, his voice muffled. "Weave me awone, Malik."

"Hmn…" pondered Malik out loud, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Fine. What if I gave you gold?"

"Riches aren't everything," Ryou muttered automatically from underneath his pillow.

"Chocolate?" Malik prodded.

"Later," Ryou mumbled again. "Too early for sweets."

"Clothes?"

"Our lives are not meant for material goods."

"Books?"

"Got too many, no time to read."

"Shelter, food, a place to dwell?"

"Have it, need it, same as number one."

"Sex?"

There was silence from the pillow, which Malik took as a cue to continue.

"Sex with MAAARRRIIIKKKK?"

Finally, after some time, Ryou's voice came from beneath the pillow again.

"You're disgusting."

Malik burst out laughing. "Fine fine, I coincide," the Egyptian boy snickered. "I don't know, sex with Bakura would get me out of bed any day, but I guess not you, huh?"

"You're disgusting," Ryou repeated again. Malik burst out laughing again.

"SOMEONE'S not a morning person," Malik teased, poking Ryou in the ribs. Ryou tensed slightly, expecting to be tickled, but Malik merely sat there, still pondering how to get Ryou out of bed.

"Well now," said Malik out loud. "What about…CREAM PUFFS?"

Another silence.

"You're so meeaaan, Malik-kun!" Ryou whined.

Malik had to suppress his laughter again. "Isis will make you cream puffs if you wake uuuup," the Light sang. Ryou moaned, before he muttered:

"Maybe. Bring it to me later."

Malik snickered. Oh, how he loved teasing the Briton with his favorite foods. But it turned out that Ryou still wasn't in the greatest mood to get out of bed, and Malik had to admit, Ryou really did need some sleep in order to heal his fever.

However…

"Okay, okay," Malik sighed, getting off the bed. "I suppose nothing will get you out of bed today. I'll bring you cream puffs in a lunchbox." He turned towards the door, his back facing Ryou. "I guess you'll never get up today. Especially TODAY. I mean, who'd want to get up on the day you receive your report cards and have a recognition assembly and application exams? I mean, who needs school?"

On cue, Malik smirked as Ryou suddenly yelped and scrambled out of bed. A crash followed, indicating that Ryou must've knocked something over, but it didn't bother Malik.

"Oh, gods!" Ryou cried out. "I'm late! I'm late!"

Malik snickered.

Worked like a charm.

* * *

"I'm late, I'm late!" Ryou wailed. "Malik, how could you?"

"What?" asked Malik innocently. "I got you to wake up…"

Ryou moaned, hastily buttoning his school uniform, while stuffing two cream puffs into his mouth. Malik giggled. Suddenly Ryou wailed out again.

"My books! They're back at the apartment!"

"Got them!" Malik said cheerfully, holding up Ryou's leather school case, books and homework all packed neatly inside. Ryou hastily grabbed it, while still chewing like mad on his beloved cream puffs.

"Slow down, Ryou," Isis chided, hiding a smile. "You'll choke."

Indeed, Ryou had finally gotten up, and had rushed into the house, finding Isis and Rishid in the kitchen. The Ishtal sister had left her veil in her bedroom, allowing her long black hair to trail neatly down her back, while Rishid was standing next to her, his usual stoic expression as he watched her flip pancakes and prepare Ryou's beloved cream puffs.

Ryou moaned again, before he hastily checked his pockets for his keys. Malik giggled at the sight; Ryou with two cream puffs on each side of his mouth, making his face look adorably full, while the white haired boy was hastily checking for keys.

"Here," Malik said, picking up the keys from Ryou's leather jacket and handing them to the boy.

"Thanks," Ryou muttered distantly, muffled by the cream puffs in his mouth. "Wait," he suddenly said. "Where'd you get my bag?"

"Got up at six, drove to your apartment," said Malik casually. Ryou gave him a slightly suspicious look.

"And HOW did you get in there?"

"Picked the lock," Malik replied nonchalantly and perkily, grinning. Ryou moaned again, this time sounding far more agonized.

"Please don't ever pick my lock at night, kay?" Ryou pleaded. "You'll wake me up and scare the heck out of me."

"That's what I do!" Malik giggled, as he handed Ryou his lunchbox. Ryou groaned again, before swallowing the two cream puffs in one gulp.

"I'll never make it in time!" he wailed. "I'm on the other side of the CITY!"

"Ah ah ah," Malik wagged a finger in front of Ryou's face. "That's why you got ME!"

"Malik will drive you on his motorcycle," Rishid explained, a small smile on his face at Ryou's and Malik's antics. Ryou's jaw almost dropped open.

"On a MOTORCYCLE!" Ryou cried, horrified.

Malik had to hold onto the table to stop him from laughing.

"Malik's very skilled at driving the motorcycle," Isis assured. "You don't need to worry, Ryou. He's very good. He'll get you there in five minutes."

"Omit the fact that Malik must drive through alleyways and cut corners," Rishid said, though his lips twitched. Malik giggled at his adoptive brother's teasing.

Unfortunately, Ryou didn't find it so funny.

"A MOTORCYCLE!" he exclaimed. "I'll never live!"

"Yes you will," Malik assured, grabbing Ryou's hand and leading him away. "Bye, sister! Bye Rishid! See you after a few hours after we admit Ryou to the hospital!"

"Malik, be nice," Isis chided, though she was smiling as she waved goodbye. Ryou's moan echoed after them.

"MAAAALLLLIIIKKK!"

* * *

"See? That wasn't so bad," Malik said, grinning as he parked his motorcycle. The Briton behind him merely made an odd sound, like a cross between a whimper and a 'humph.' Malik snickered.

"Easy for you to say, Malik-kun," Ryou whimpered.

"But it was so fun!" Malik exclaimed, looking behind him. Ryou still had his face stuffed into Malik's spine, refusing to pry his arms from the Egyptian's waist. "Especially when we went UP the marble stairs at city hall…"

"MALIK!" Ryou cried. "We didn't do that, did we?"

Malik burst out laughing again as Ryou quickly scrambled off him. "No, no. We didn't. I kid."

"Remind me to never ask you for a favour, Malik-kun," Ryou grumbled.

Malik laughed, before he then began to pry off Ryou's arms off his waist. He made a small grunt. "Umph. Hey, you're stronger than you look, Ryou-kun."

Ryou 'humph'ed back again, not letting go.

"We're on safe ground now," Malik said. "Look! There's the school, and there's Yugi, and there's your teacher pointing to you and yelling…"

With another yelp, Ryou leapt off the bike, his eyes shut tight, before he hastily waved a hasty goodbye and pelted across the school courtyard. Malik had to stifle his laughter as he watched Ryou disappear into the school doors, noting that school was always Ryou's touchy spot.

Grinning to himself, Malik replaced his helmet (he wouldn't admit it to Ryou, but he was careful occasionally), revved up the engine, and began a favorable drive around the block.

* * *

"Ryou-kun!"

"Hey," Ryou greeted tiredly, walking up to Yugi's desk. By the looks of it, Yugi had not one eye-shut of sleep either, for there were large bags present beneath his eyes. Ryou gathered that he himself looked roughly the same.

"Haah…?" Jonouchi said suspiciously, squinting into Ryou's eyes. "What? You didn't get any sleep either?"

Ryou suppressed a yawn, one finger adorably rubbing his eye. "Ah…I woke up…kinda tired this morning…."

Jonouchi shrugged. "Okay. Okay. If you're sure." He turned back to Yugi. "So. Museum this afternoon?"

Yugi smiled. "Naturally. We ought to get going if we're going pretty early."

"So….Museum first," said Honda thoughtfully, "then Egypt. Why so tedious?"

Yugi shrugged. "That's what Isis-san told me. She said the tablet's going to be moved anyways, so if we want to go and take a look, we can only look today."

"I'm glad summer's coming," Ryou mumbled, yawning again. Honda and Jonouchi cocked their eyebrows.

"Oh, eh Ryou-kun? So you can sleep and eat all day long?" Honda teased.

Ryou flushed. "You eat just as much as I do!"

"Nah, Jonouchi eats way more," Honda snickered back, before slapping the back of his hand against Jonouchi's belly. The blonde shot his friend a mock-annoyed look.

"Bleh," Jonouchi said, sticking his tongue out. Ryou laughed.

"Oh, come on," he chided. "The bell's gone. Let's go head towards the museum."

* * *

Ra, was anything going right today?

Ryou shuddered as he entered the museum, following a little behind on the group, which was lead by a large man, quite obese, wearing a turban and Arabian pants. Even his shoes were curled at the tips, but it wasn't the attire that had scared the crap out of Ryou and anyone else.

Ryou made a face. The man had SOCKETS in his skin, for crying out loud! If that wasn't disturbing, then he sure as heck didn't know what was.

Finally, after their steps had echoed within the museum hallway for quite some time, they stopped short in front of the glass tablet upon the wall. Ryou looked up, blinking curiously, as this was probably his first time staring at it so intently. He had to admit, it was quite entrancing, and he liked it very much

Bracing himself, Ryou watched as Yami Yugi then transformed into Yugi's body, before stepping back. After another hard glare at the tablet, the ancient pharaoh raised up his hands, containing the God Cards, and displayed them before the tablet.

Ryou wasn't exactly sure what happened, but it seemed as though Yami had quite gotten a reply. His arm had shaken violently and energy surged through his arm. Within another second, Bobasa (the scary obese Arabian genie with the holes in his stomach!) had stood in front of the ex-pharaoh, and held up a scale.

"I know that Miss Isis has told you to meet her in Egypt," Bobasa said solemnly. " But this is to measure who is allowed to go at all, into the memory world." He shot them all a look. "It will certainly cause you less trouble if you knew you could not go."

Jonouchi raised an eyebrow cynically. "Eh?"

Bobasa held up the Millennium Scale, closing his eyes. "With this, I shall measure your darkness and your lights, to see if Ra will deem you worthy enough to pass."

They all stood still as Bobasa stepped in front of each of them. Anzu was free of danger. So was Jonouchi. And Honda too.

As Bobasa approached him, Ryou took a deep breath, and straightened in front of the measuring scale.

Bobasa frowned.

"Hah?" Ryou blinked, eyes wide. "What's wrong?"

The scale loomed, shifting its invisible weight, before one side swiftly leaned downwards. Ryou blinked again, feeling a cold dread well up inside him.

"This boy…" Bobasa murmured, "…he can't go."

"What? Why?" Ryou asked, feeling a little hurt as he scratched his head. "I would love to go back and help find Yami Yugi! What's wrong? Why can't I go?"

Bobasa shook his head slowly as complaints up roared around them.

"Why can't Ryou go?"

"He's a good guy! It's Jonouchi that's the pervert!"

"Please, let Ryou go! He's Yami's friend too!"

Again, Bobasa shook his head.

"I'm sorry," he said lowly, giving Ryou a piercing glaze. "Sorry. You posses a dark spirit within you. I'm afraid I can't let you pass."

Swallowing, Ryou stared at the scale, feeling colder and colder inside. He could not pass? Why? What had he done wrong in his life? Was he not worthy of Yugi's friend enough to go after him, and see and help in his memory world?

Crestfallen, he turned around, heading for the door. Jonouchi stopped him.

"Hey! RYOU!"

Ryou turned back around sadly, before giving them a sad wave. "It's okay. I have to go anyways. Take care of Yugi for me." And with that, he ran off, tears prickling from the corner of his eyes as he purged on ahead, bolting out of the door and onto the streets.

/….hmn…./ came Bakura's voice. /…how interesting…/

* * *

Ryou wasn't exactly sure how long he had run, whether it had been minutes or hours. He hadn't even been sure why he cried…but it was perhaps his dismay at realizing he could not go. He was Yugi's friend, yes, but obviously not worthy enough to be!

Oh, how lonely did Ryou feel then and there! How he felt that deep, chilling ice in his insides, and how his spine froze still. How that scale mercilessly tipped to one side, laughing at him in the face. _You can't go, you can't go, you're pathetic and weak and useless. You're nothing. Nothing!_

He continued to run, his feet pounding against the concrete of the cement sidewalk. Passer-bys were blurred together in a mix of black and blue. Buildings flashed by as grey, and the sky disconcerted with blots of white.

_I can't go,_ he thought sadly, tears spilling fresh out of his eyes. _I can't go…because I'm not worthy…because I have this darkness within me that I can't control…that's why I'm so weak…that's why I'm so pathetic…_

_…That's why I can't go…_

Oh, how he hated not fitting in! He had never fit in anywhere else….Yugi-tachi had been his first friends who hadn't been placed into miniature dolls! They were his friends…his only friends…and even now, when they oh-so-desperately needed him, he could do nothing, because he was worthless and weak and useless and pathetic.

Why? Why had Marik lied and said that he was so strong? It was obviously not true.

Since his eyesight had been terribly blurred, Ryou had not noticed that anyone was in front of him, until he bumped into them. With a yelp, he and the stranger toppled to the ground, barely missing the nearby lamppost.

"Ra, Ryou! What are you trying to get yourself into? A coma!"

Shaking his head to ward off his headache, Ryou looked up. Lavender eyes stared back at him through golden bangs, and a mischievous grin was upon Malik's face.

Immediately, however, Malik had noticed the tearstains streaked on Ryou's face, and his grin flipped into a frown.

"Ryou…what's wrong?"

Ryou shook his head again, hiccupping. "Ahh…nothing…Malik-kun…"

"It's not nothing," Malik insisted, standing up and hauling Ryou with him. "You're crying. What's wrong?"

Again, Ryou shook his head, sniffling. "Nothing, Malik-kun…really…"

Malik scowled, before he forcefully tilted Ryou's chin up to meet his eyes.

"Three Ts, Ryou-kun. Tell. The. Truth."

Ryou sniffled again, before he turned away. "N-nothing…really, Malik-kun. Just…being emotional, that's all."

He felt a hand gently lay on his shoulder, and then followed by Malik's voice.

"Oh?"

"Malik," said Ryou abruptly, his eyes wide as he attempted to control his sniffles. "Am I…what am I? Am I bad? An omen? What am I that makes people…that makes people…turn away…so much?"

Malik blinked, before his eyes grew wide. "W-whaaat….?" he whispered at length.

Ryou sniffled again, before he suddenly turned around, to face his friend straight-forward and true.

"What am I, Malik?" Ryou pleaded. "What am I? What makes me so…what makes me so bad that everyone has to stay away from me? What makes me so unlikable that people can't let me do certain things, no matter how much I want to? Why? Am I bad? Am I evil? Am I some sort of omen?"

"What?" Malik breathed again incredulously. He grabbed Ryou's shoulders and shook them. "What? What are you saying, Ryou? Of course you're not bad! Of course you're not evil! How could you think something like that?"

Ryou bowed his head, his bangs hiding his eyes.

"Ryou, come on," Malik said. "Think rationally. You're the most pure person I've known in my life! Except for Yugi himself, but he's just like a child. You're…you're the most nicest, kindest, and most hard-working person I have ever met. How could you think that you're evil?"

"But I…" Ryou protested, a sob choking his throat again. "But I…Yugi…I was in the museum with Yugi…and they said I couldn't go back to the memory world because I was…I was…"

"Did they use the Millennium Scale?" Malik asked, narrowing his eyes.

Ryou nodded, sniffing again.

Malik sighed kindly. "Then it wasn't _you _that it sensed, Ryou. It wasn't _you. _It was Bakura that they sensed, not you. That's why they said you couldn't go. It's just because of Bakura, not you."

Ryou was silent for a moment, his eyes focused on the concrete ground.

"Ryou, listen to me," Malik said firmly. "I've known you ever since Battle City. I know that's not long, but I think I know more about you than anyone else in Yugi-tachi's group. And I know, that when something like that happens, it's _not _you. It's just Bakura."

"But why can't I stop him?" Ryou cried out. "Why am I so weak that I can't even stop him? Why?" He began to sob again, his throat throbbing from the force of his choking sobs." I _hate _my life this way, Malik-kun! I hate it! I hate it! Every time I move, or every time I go away, I always have to be careful because I know he's always there! I know Bakura's going to be with me forever, but why can't I just have the chance to be _normal? _To be NORMAL? Like anyone else? Why do I have to be saddled with someone who has to force me to give up my life for solitude so that no one will be hurt!"

Ryou coughed, sobbing into his hands as Malik stood in front of him, stupefied. After a couple of heartbreaking moments of silence, Malik quietly took a step forward, and wrapped his arms around Ryou's shoulders.

"I know," Malik said softly. "I know it hurts. But Ryou…that's just the way we are. We are all not normal. None of us are. Just…you are more worse off than any of us. And Ryou, you can't possibly think that you are weak, or pathetic. You're right. You _are _the one most saddled with the worse spirit in our group right now, but Ryou, that's something to admire. You've made it so long with Bakura already. That must be strong."

Oh, how these words sounded so familiar to Ryou's ears. Yet, he couldn't quite believe them, for the last time he had heard such things, the person who said them had vanished, and with them, so did Ryou's faith.

"B-but…Malik…" Ryou sobbed quietly. "Why…? Why can't I …why can't I just be normal? When will this all be over? When can I be me again?"

Malik sighed, rubbing a hand soothingly on Ryou's back for a while, ignoring the passer-bys that swarmed around them.

"Hey," Malik breathed. "It'll be okay. Bakura's going to be gone soon. Then you'll be able to be normal."

Ryou hiccupped a bit, before nodding weakly against Malik's chest.

"You…do you really think so?"

Malik smiled, before patting his friend on the back.

"I _know _so."

He gave Ryou a smile, and was relieved when he got one in return. Granted, it was strained-looking, but it was an attempted smile none-of-the-less.

"Come on," Malik said, ushering Ryou slightly. "We're already boarding for Egypt. It's the last day of school for you today, right? Want to come along?"

Ryou gasped, his eyes wide. "Come…along? With you?"

Malik gave a good-hearted snicker. "Who else?" he asked. "Isis is getting the tablet loaded right now, so we're sailing off to Egypt soon. Wanna come? I've already got all your stuff."

Ryou raised a derisive eyebrow. "I thought I told you to stay away from picking my lock!"

Malik laughed, much more relieved to see Ryou finally lightening up.

"Hmn, old habits die hard. Come on," Malik laughed, grabbing Ryou's hand. "The motorbike's this way. We'll be heading off for Egypt tonight. Come on, come with us! It'd be so boring without you. Plus, you don't want to be alone here in Domino over the summer, do you?"

Ryou blushed, shaking his head. "No…I don't," he said quietly.

Malik gave him a small smile. "Then come with me."

With a final glance up at Malik, Ryou took a step forward with his friend, and together, they headed for the yatch.


	4. Love Always Returns

Bleh, updated quickly this time. And don't tell me this was short...this thing was seven pages long just like any other chapter. XD I was just feeling evil (and lazy) so I gave you guys a cliffhanger. They're fun.

Anyways, don't expect too many updates next week or so. I have two projects to finish and they're quite big. So, without further ado...here's chapter four.

Oh yes, and to **Sami** **Ryou's** **Hikari**: I'm not actually sure Bakura dies in the AE arc, but I'm guess so, because Yami Yugi has his duel with Yugi, so I'm guessing Bakura's destroyed. HOWEVER...(gets evil glint) We thought Marik was destroyed, did we not? Well now...(rubs hands)

* * *

Chapter Four: Love Always Returns

As Bakura watched the sun rise above the glittering waters, his heart began to beat, slowly at first, then rapidly. Rays began to spread across the horizon, a thin string of gold just above the deep blue sea. Sighing silently, Bakura leaned over the side of the yatch, closing his eyes as he felt the salt of the sea wisp into his hair.

His heart was beating, and that was something of concern. Because Bakura had never felt his heart beat since his rebirth. Never.

He was a Darkness, a spirit. His heart didn't beat. He was a dead, existing ghost, out for revenge and domination. Yet, now as he watched Ra rise into the sky, his beating heart yearned for something more, something he couldn't have.

_"Haaa….Bakura, catch me if you can!"_

_"I can catch anything!" he yelled back, his childish feet splattering mud as he ran across the vicinity of the village. Sighing mothers shook their heads as they held water jugs on their shoulders. One stopped him by stepping in front of him, linen skirt blocking his view. Yelping, he skidded to a stop, and fell flat on his rear._

_"MOTHER!"_

_"Bakura…have you done your chores?" the older woman asked, sighing lightly as she shook her head. White hair tumbled by her shoulders, covered distinctly by her linen veil._

_"No, I was playing with Malik," Bakura pouted. "I want to play with Malik."_

_"Catch me if you can, Bakura!" Malik called, giggling as he waved like mad on the other side of the village. Bakura stuck out his tongue._

_"Bleh!"_

_His mother sighed again. "Fine then. But I want you at home by sunset. You'll do the dishes tonight then."_

_Bakura moaned. "But then I'd have to get water from the river!"_

_His mother gave him a wry smile. "So now it's something little Bakura has to get, not steal? You know our neighbors were complaining today…have you been stealing from their fruit tree again?"_

_Bakura pouted good-naturally. "And if I have?" he asked, grinning innocently._

_His mother laughed, then gave him a peck on the cheek. "Then you will be the finest thief in Egypt when you grow up."_

_Bakura laughed, clapping his hands and getting up. "Thanks, mother."_

Sighing, Bakura bowed his head down, staring deep into the crystal aquamarine depths beneath him. Foams spitted against the side of the yatch and sprayed his hair with salt, but he merely closed his eyes, content for a single moment in his solitude.

Granted, he had been living in solitude for three thousand years. One more moment couldn't hurt. He sighed again, running a hand through his hair. He couldn't believe it. He had a conscience, for Ra's sake! Where did that come from?

And yet, though he thought he had despised such a thing, his heart welcomed it. A conscience. A guide of light to show him right from wrong, justice from evil. Perhaps somewhere along his life, that light disappeared into his realm of darkness, and now, after his memories were fully regained, had returned.

Suddenly, he was jolted out of his trance when he heard a soft yawn from the inside of the yatch. Arching an eyebrow, he swiftly turned around, noticing the silhouette of his former lover in the windows, yawning and stretching. And without further ado, Bakura slid onto the bench on the deck, and vanished back into his soulroom.

* * *

"And here we are…Egypt," Malik said, exhaling proudly.

"Mmnhmm…" Ryou mumbled incoherently. "Why on earth did Bakura make me sleep on a bench…?"  
Malik shrugged. "No idea. I thought you were camping out, by the looks of it?"

Ryou shook his head. "Nope…I went to bed, not to bench."

Malik laughed.

Finally, the two Lights had woken up, and were now admiring the oncoming view of Egypt from their yatch. A week had passed since Ryou's trip to the museum, and during that week, nightly slumber parties occurred between the Ishtals and the one Bakura, (as the thief never participated), leaving Ryou constantly tired every morning.

Last night in particular, was the most fun. Isis had finally gotten Rishid to become more open, and while Ryou and Malik were in their pajamas, chewing on chocolate and cream puffs, the adoptive brother had let himself loose and grabbed a pillow, chucking it straight at Malik.

Within seconds, a pillow fight ensued, with Malik jumping over couches, chasing after the grinning Rishid into the kitchens and bedrooms. Feathers littered the living room, and ripped pillowcases hung from curtain racks. As the pillow war continued, Ryou and Isis had merely sat back and watched the two boys knock themselves silly with fluffy things, laughing and giggling at their antics.

And now, Ryou was utterly exhausted. Shortly after Malik had pinned Rishid down and was mercilessly beating him with a pillow, Rishid had turned the tables around, and next was tickling Malik on the floor. Shortly afterwards, even Isis joined, letting herself loose as well. Shortly after, even Ryou joined, helping Rishid tickle Malik while Isis continually bopped him with a pillow.

Granted, it had been Ryou's turn for pillow-and-tickle-torture next, and Ra, how his ribs ached from laughing so hard. Eventually, they had all stopped, and contented themselves with sitting on Ryou's sofa bed, playing truth or dare, adult style. Malik had already turned eighteen, whilst Ryou was almost there, and it wasn't the best idea to play truth or dare with one female and three young males. Isis had been rendered utterly exasperate as Malik retold tales about his hormone life, including Ryou in everything, causing the Light to blush most terribly, as Rishid countered such stories with snide jokes about his affection for Isis.

And then another pillow fight ensued.

Now, as Ryou stood on deck with Malik, both of them decked in only pajamas, he felt dead tired. Happy, but tired. Having excessive pillow fights and limited sleep had not been treating his fever well, but at least it was small.

He groaned, stretching slightly. "Never. Ever. Tickle me at night again."

Malik giggled, before poking Ryou in the (sore) ribs. "Oh yeah?"

Ryou giggled back, sticking his tongue out at the Egyptian adorably. "Yeah."

"Challenge you," Malik challenged. "Duel monsters. You win, I won't tickle you for our entire Egyptian trip. You lose, I get to tickle you whenever I want, even in public."

"Oh Ra," Ryou moaned. "Must I?"

Malik laughed a bit, stretching backwards and arching his back. "You sore? I am."

Ryou giggled, before innocently poking Malik's tummy. Immediately, the Egyptian hunched forward on reflex, since he was slightly ticklish. Ryou giggled and yawned.

"A little bit," he admitted. "I guess I'll go to sleep a little bit."

"You sure?" Malik asked. "We're getting off pretty soon. Do you want me to wake you up when we're supposed to get Yugi-tachi from the airport?"

Ryou nodded, barely succeeding in suppressing a yawn. "That'd be great, thanks."

Malik nodded. "Okay then. You go to sleep. You don't look very well…is your fever still there?"

Ryou shrugged, but nodded truthfully. "A little bit, but I'll be fine. One sleep should do the trick."

"I heard that the longer you put a fever off, the worse It'll get," Malik said, as Ryou began to walk off towards the living room. "I guess it is best for you to get some sleep now."

"Yeah," Ryou sighed, watching as Malik followed him, open pajama top billowing behind him. "Oh well…I guess I've put off with it long enough. I better get some sleep today then."

"And drink lots of fluids!" Malik said seriously, nodding his head.

Ryou laughed. "I don't think it's that serious," he said. "As long as I don't do anything too strenuous, I think I'll be fine."

Malik nodded. "Okay. Do you want me to do anything? Glass of water, open window, more blankets?"

"Malik, I'm not incapable!" Ryou laughed. "It's just a fever."

Despite himself, Malik grinned. "Okay. I'll just wake you up when we're leaving for the airport, kay?"

Slipping into his sofa bed, Ryou nodded. "Thanks."

* * *

Time passed slowly for others, especially those who were awake. And Yami Bakura was awake.

He knew it wasn't the best idea to use Ryou's body when the boy had a fever, but as Ryou said, as long as he had rest, he should be fine. As he lay there restlessly, in Ryou's open pajamas (he had a tendency to loathe buttons, but Ryou loved them), he couldn't help but feel the unsurpassable rage that he now felt in his heart.

Before he had not known his memories. Before, he killed for the Items for reasons unknown…back then he had always thought because he liked it, because it was amusing, because it gave him a meaning and something to do. But now, Bakura thought otherwise.

The pharaoh would pay. Pay dearly.

Idiot Marik for being so bold…! The Egyptian deserved what he got. He had been fighting for selfish needs, for pure amusement of torture and sadism. Bakura used to think he did so too, until he realized that it was not what he was aiming for.

He was fighting for vengeance.

He would kill Yami Yugi for everything he had done. He would kill Anzu, Honda, Jonouchi and even Yugi, right in front of the ex-pharaoh's eyes, laughing all the while, feeling the pharaoh's tearing heart that he himself had felt once before.

Impatient, Bakura stood up, and undressed himself. Throwing the pajamas across the sofa bed, he took out his usual frayed jeans and striped shirt. With a rough flourish, he brought the Millennium Ring out from beneath his shirt, its eye glowing upon it. He smirked.

Mahaado had paid wonderful for that.

After slipping on his sneakers and grabbing his leather jacket, he produced a dagger from his pocket. It was new and silver, the same shade of his hair, its hilt studded with ruby jewels and golden strands. Malik had given it to him ages ago to replace the old one that Bakura used to have. Bakura could not remember where he had gotten the older dagger, and during that time, had accepted Malik's gift with love.

Closing his eyes, he calmly threw the fancy dagger into the sofa bed. Feathers sprouted and floated around the stab that he had made. He wasn't planning on coming back.

Walking away, Bakura took out another knife. It was old, it was dirty, and it had a leather sheath to go along with it. The leather was homemade, and inside was swathed with linen. The blade was old, but Bakura had long since refined it, so it shined. In the hilt, was inscribed with ancient hieroglyphics…

Bakura.

Sighing, Bakura left the living room, and jumped off the yatch from the deck.

* * *

"Ryou!" Malik called. "Ryou…! We're going now! Better get up! Isis has cream puffs!"

When Ryou did not reply, Malik sighed, and strode into the living room.

"Ryou, we're going now, come on," Malik said, striding up towards the sofa bed. It was then when he realized that Ryou was _not _in bed at all.

Frantically, Malik looked around him, in desperate search for his friend. It was only when a glitter of silver caught his eye, and when he saw the dagger that protruded from the mattress, his heart sank. Hands shaking, he reached out towards the dagger, and yanked it out of the bed.

He stared at the dagger for a while, as memories flooded his mind like a heartless tsunami. Feeling tears prickle his eyes, Malik turned away, before stomping towards the door in effort to save some dignity left.

_Sorry, Bakura,_ Malik thought sadly to himself. _I'm sorry I couldn't be the one you wanted…I guess this really means…_

Sighing again, Malik opened the door to the yatch, walking down the wooden steps to the shoreline deck. His sister and Rishid were waiting for him in the midst of linen and veils.

_I guess this really means…_Malik thought sadly as he pocketed the dagger away, _that we can't ever be together._

* * *

Bakura watched from the high ledge, as the crowd below him entered the ancient door.

_Fools, _he thought to himself.

Beneath where Bakura sat, was a canyon of sand, caved in at the sides to form some sort of large road. One side led back to the village, while the other was a remotely a dead end, since the only thing present on the other side was a single door.

He watched as Malik, happily laughing like the boy he was before his initiation, open the door and gesture everyone to go in. For a moment, Bakura felt a pang of hurt and anger that Malik had so willingly allowed Yami Yugi through the door, where the tablet of the Nameless Pharaoh was, but then again, he needed to go back too.

A wicked grin slowly appeared on Bakura's face. Malik laughed in the background, ushering Anzu through, before entering himself and closing the door.

_Pharaoh, _Bakura thought, _let our final game begin._

* * *

Groaning, Ryou blinked his eyes open. What had happened?

Sand scratched his eyes as it sprayed into his face. He coughed, backing up a little bit, before he began to rid his pupils of the dirty grains.

_What on earth…?_ he thought wearily. _Where am I? _

He sat for a moment, blinking in confusion. Sand surrounded him for miles around, and when he shuffled closer forwards, he nearly fainted when he realized that he was on a high ledge, with no way to get down.

/Get down there/ his yami said lowly.

Ryou startled a bit. /W-What…./ he asked. Quickly realizing his lack of respect, he hurriedly added/Bakura-sama/

/Get down there and get through the door./ Bakura snapped back. /It's unlocked./

Ryou jumped a little bit, still a little afraid at his yami's attitude. Quickly he forced himself to find a relatively smooth hill nearby, and carefully began to slide downwards.

/_Quickly, _baka/ Bakura almost yelled, his low voice grating harshly against Ryou's ears. As though summoning sudden strength, Ryou quickly released his grip in the sands, and closed his eyes tight as he felt his shoes burn from the speed at which he was sliding.

He landed onto the ground with a toppled "oof", getting a mouthful of grains. Making a face and spitting them out, he quickly got up, dusting himself in the process. After looking around at his surroundings, he then hurried towards the door, and to his surprise, was open and not locked.

Leading downwards from the door, was a long, crumbling stairway. Ryou eyed it warily. He didn't dare go down such a thing. For one, it was yellowed and it looked terribly unstable…for another, there were stains on the walls next to the stairs; stains that looked awfully like blood.

Shivering, Ryou took one step down, his hand against the wall for support. As he took another step, then another, the door shut behind him, incasing him in total darkness.

_Oh great._

Carefully he continued his plight, stepping lightly. His leather jacket scraped softly behind him as he began his descend, scuffing dirt and sand along with him.

Suddenly, without any warning at all, the Millennium Ring began to flash angrily. Caught off-guards, Ryou arched back a little, his eyes wide as the Ring began to incase the darkness in a blinding flash of light.

As the light continued to blind his eyes, Ryou couldn't help but feel so awfully weak…it were as though his energy was being consumed, being sucked out literally through the Ring. He cried out slightly in pain as the surge of energy bolted through his body and began to concentrate on his chest. The energy began to build just beneath the skin of his chest, burning his veins with tremendous pain. He screamed in agony as something began to detach itself from his chest…a soft, transparent figure appeared to be ascending from his burning chest….

The transparent figure began to wisp out entirely. Strands of the spirit's lingering aura floated from Ryou's chest, leaving him weak and exhausted. The pain was beginning to numb, but his limbs felt so sore…

As he began to lose consciousness, Ryou couldn't help but feel at ease. He wasn't exactly sure why, as he should've been panicking since he was about to tumble down the steps of the staircase, but as darkness began to surround him once more, he couldn't help but realize that he was now feeling…whole.

There was no longer the feeling of foreboding behind his mind, nor the echoing barrier in his head, or the shared hallway in his soulroom.

He was whole.

As his eyes slid shut, his body thrown against the slanted descend of the staircase, he couldn't help but feel even slightly disappointed. Living in solitude most of his life, Bakura had been the only one who had ever been with him, and now, as Ryou watched his former darker half disappear in the darkness, he couldn't help but feel a little sad.

_Goodbye, yami-sama…_

* * *

Pain. Drastic, sore, sharp pain.

Wincing, Ryou blinked open his eyes, for what might have been the third time that day. His limbs felt stiff and frozen, and his head felt thick and hot. His ribs felt as though they were aflame, and his cheek was numb.

Wincing again, he gingerly picked himself up. When he reached his knees, his eyesight began to focus once more.

_Wonderful, _he thought tiredly.

His newest surroundings were stones in darkness. Old, marble pillars ran from the once-smooth stone floor, ending with awesome structures and statues. Upon many of the marble pillars were hieroglyphics; tiny little pictures scaling up each of the stone sides. Archways led to other rooms, and before Ryou, was a large, ancient tablet, only seen by the low-lit oil lamps next to it.

The Tablet of the Nameless Pharaoh.

In front of the tablet, however, sat a tomb. It wasn't the commonly-known, smooth narrow ones that Ryou had seen. This one was large, huge and great. It stood silently up upon a stone platform, the oil lamps flickering ocean-like shadows against it.

Standing up. Ryou shakily reached towards it with his fingers. Within the surface, the Egyptian coffin was carved with sockets, as though little places, in which each of the Millennium Items could fit. As Ryou took a closer look, he realized that the only Item that was left empty in the tomb, was the Milllennium Ring.

Sighing, Ryou began to slowly take the Ring from his neck. He wasn't exactly sure why he was being so gentle, or why he was giving it up, but it felt as though it were the right thing to do. After all, though it had been a gift from his father, it truly belonged to the tomb of the Nameless Pharaoh. So, with gentle grace and bowed respect, Ryou gently placed the golden relic into its place.

Suddenly, there was another golden flash, and Ryou had to back up to shield his eyes from it.

_Not again! _he thought. Quickly, he shut his eyes, his eyelids burning red from the power of the blinding light. The floor shook and rumbled, and the pillars quivered above.

Finally, the light died down, and when Ryou felt it was safe enough to open his eyes, he gasped in shocked surprise.

No. Way. No. Bloody. Way.

It had been the first time he had ever used such slang, as he had always been good mannered and polite. But now, as he watched his newest revelation, he decided that it was a good way to describe what had happened.

"Oh Ra…" he breathed, his eyes wide with apprehension, fear and shock. "M-Marik…?"

No…it couldn't have been!

And yet, there he was…same, heavenly, caramel skin, same awestruck build and muscles, same golden, sandy hair that shot up towards the skies above, and the same, sharp and cold amethyst eyes.

The Egyptian was floating above the tomb, a thin outline of golden light encasing around his figure. At first, his entire figure was transparent, but as seconds progressed, the Egyptian began to regain much of his luster, becoming bolder and realer in the darkness of the room.

Through the strands of dying light, Ryou could see Marik's expression quite clearly, and was overjoyed to see Marik almost exactly the same. The same amethyst eyes were still as captivating, sharp and scrupulous. His expression was as usual, emotionless and almost cold, but as Ryou took a closer look, he could see a faint trace of mauve behind Marik's sharp eyes.

Was it truly possible?

_I must be…I must be dreaming,_ Ryou thought. _It must be a dream, it must be the fever, or maybe it's the heat…_

The Egyptian slowly began to descend, lavender cloak billowing out slowly behind him. When his feet finally reached the ground, the light died down entirely, leaving the room in the darkness it was previously in before.

Fingers shaking, Ryou tentatively reached out towards the Egyptian, eyes wide, mouth slightly agape. As he neared closer, his fingers gently brushed against that of Marik's skin. Immediately he jerked his hand back, startled to feel the warm, smooth texture of familiarity from so many months before.

However, before he could get over his shock, his hand was grabbed and he was pulled forwards. Within another second, Ryou felt warm lips conquer his own, warm breath sweeping across his open lips and into his mouth. A tongue began to intrude, curling lightly against his own.

For a moment, Ryou was absolutely frozen. He did nothing, except focusing on his lips; the fact that they were warm against another's and that his tongue was being caressed by another's. He was only startled out of his astounded reverie when he felt warm hands wrap around his waist, drawing him closer to the body of warmth he had almost forgotten.

Eyes fluttering shut, Ryou slowly reached up and encircled his arms around Marik's neck, and hesitantly, returned the kiss.

After what felt like eternity, they slowly pulled apart, Ryou's wide eyes dazed and distant. Slowly, he reached up with his fingers, and laid them on his warm lips.

"I missed you too," Marik chuckled, before kissing Ryou's lips again. "Miss me?"

Blinking repeatedly, Ryou looked up once more. Silently, his mouth still slightly agape, hardly daring to believe it, he slowly raised his hand towards Marik's face. The Egyptian merely raised an eyebrow, gazing at Ryou slightly curiously as the Light began to trail his fingers down Marik's face. The same, soft porcelain fingers then carefully outlined Marik's eyes…then up to his bangs, sweeping them away…then down his temple and down his cheek, before coming a rest upon his lips.

"It _is _you…" Ryou breathed, his eyes even wider. Speechlessly, he slowly ran his fingers through Marik's hair, twirling the soft, silky strands between his fingers.

Tenderly and slowly, Marik raised a finger beneath Ryou's chin, slowly directing his lips towards his own. So close…so close…oh, how Marik just need to taste those honeyed lips again…

"It is me…" Marik whispered, his warm breath sweeping across Ryou's lips. Closing his eyes, he promptly captured Ryou's lips once more.

This time, Ryou could not deny it. He had gotten over his shock, his surprise, and Ra, if this was the only chance he had left with Marik, then he'd cherish it for life. Fluttering his eyes shut, he wound his arms tightly around Marik's neck, standing on the tip of his toes to press against Marik's lips. As Ryou's hands began to delve up into Marik's hair, the Egyptian's grip tightened, kissing him passionately.

The air around them seemed to warm, becoming lighter and lighter, before wrapping around them, in a passionate whirlwind of love and affection. Wind began to fly through their hair in the breathless room, coaxing about them, bringing them closer and closer together, before whisping about them, echoing tender whispers of love in their ears.

Ryou could not believe it. His heart was beating again…not in tattered mourning, but in care, in affection, in love. It swelled with the feeling of comfort and warmth that he had almost forgotten, floating to his throat, almost lifting him off his feet.

Slowly, as though even the wind did not wish to part, the breeze of love and compassion slowly drifted away, spiraling gradually around their shadows, before entering the ground, and disappearing all together. When not a trace of the fiery, intimate passion could be felt any longer, Marik and Ryou slowly broke apart, only ceasing an inch apart.

"It really…it really is you…" Ryou whispered, his voice cracking. Happy tears swelled into his eyes, threatening to drop. "I can't…I can't believe it…"

"I know," Marik breathed, watching as a single, crystal tear slithered down Ryou's cheek. Smiling softly, Marik promptly kissed away that tear, before nuzzling Ryou's throat. "But I'm here…and trust me…I will never leave again."


	5. Ancient Egypt Reconcilliation

Six pages, but that was because if I had continued, it would've been like, fourteen. And I'm not in the mood to write fourteen more pages. XDD Most of this chapter is plot...story transitions and plot. The next chapter is where finally, things get hot hot hot.

Next chapter title...(inspired by my math teacher!) iscalled..."Love Shack."

Ooh, I love tormenting you guys so much sometimes. But hai, I will keep my promise, and indeed, the next chapter will be an onslaught of MarikxRyou lemon!

Here..just fluff.

* * *

Chapter Five: Ancient Egypt Reconcilliation 

They merely stood there, still in each other's arms. Nothing moved and no sound was heard. All was at peace…from the warmth of Marik's arms and the comforting breath from his lips. Even the darkness didn't seem so intimidating any longer. The rays from the oily lamps merely complimented Marik's features, bouncing off his golden wristbands, and casting entrancing shadows across his face.

Sighing wistfully, Ryou cuddled closer to his lost lover. Could it really be? Could Marik really be back? Would he stay? Would they be together again? Could they be together again?

"Marik…" Ryou breathed, his eyes closing as he rested his cheek against the Egyptian's chest. "Oh gods…it's really you…you came back…you came back…"

He felt Marik nod, nuzzling slightly into his hair as the Darkness took a deep breath of Ryou's scent. Sighing happily, Ryou clutched on tighter, feeling Marik sway them back and forth slightly in a comforting manner.

"I don't think I could ever let go again…" Ryou whispered.

There was a soft silence, in which Ryou felt no menace, or any fear. He did not feel his lover tense, nor any other sign that there could've been something wrong. Instead, the arms quickly left his sides, before sweeping him high into the air. Squealing and laughing, he held out his arms as he felt Marik spin them around, a wide grin on his face. As Marik finally slowed his spinning and gradually putting Ryou down, he gently took Ryou's chin and directed his face towards his own.

"You'll never need to let go again," Marik said, his half-lidded gaze distant and captivating. Ryou could almost feel himself melting again under the heart-beating gaze.

"You…promise?" Ryou whispered, his voice hitching slightly as he felt tears well into his eyes again. "Promise?"

Smirking, Marik arched his eyebrow again, before kissing Ryou chastely on the lips.

"I did promise you I'd come back, didn't I?" he asked wryly.

For a moment, Ryou merely stood there, tears still welling into his eyes. Suddenly, he broke into an overjoyed grin, crying out as he lunged forwards, his arms wrapping Marik tightly around his neck. As he shut his eyes to prevent the tears, Ryou buried his face into Marik's shoulder, utterly ecstatic beyond grins and tears.

"You're here…you're here!" Ryou cried, his voice muffled. "You're really really really here and you've got your own body and everything and oh my gods, you're really really really here and I thought I would never see you again and oh, how I've missed you so much…!"

Laughing, Marik wound his arms tight around Ryou's form, lightly patting his back, and kissing his head.

"Quiet now, Ryou," Marik said softly. "I'm here and I've come back. So dry your tears and give me a kiss."

Laughing through his tears, Ryou gradually broke away, wiping his face dry. As Marik watched Ryou look up at him sheepishly, shaky smile in place and puffy eyes, he couldn't help but feel a little…just a little…warm again.

"I don't get another kiss?" Marik asked coyly, raising another eyebrow. Choking out a laugh, Ryou smiled a true, strong smile, and wrapped his arms around Marik's neck, straining on his tiptoes to press against Marik's lips. With a smirk, Marik promptly wrapped his arms around Ryou's waist, almost crushing them together as immediately, his tongue began to plumage into Ryou's mouth with reckless abandon.

They stood there for quite some time, eyes shut tight, their tongues curling and battling against one another, until a short yell of surprise jarred them from their duel.

Startled and blushing furiously, Ryou quickly turned around, with Marik's arms still linked around his waist. His eyes widened drastically when he realized who had saw them kissing each other so passionately. Behind him, Marik began to chuckle lowly.

"Well, hello, my Light. Enjoying being the Pharaoh's mutt while I've been gone?"

And indeed, there stood Malik, lavender eyes wide with shock and anger. His legs were wide apart, as though he was ready to attack. His gray-blue vest was open, fluttering lightly as he leaned back, looking wary and utterly alarmed.

"Oh Ra…" he breathed. "It's YOU!"

Marik's smirk widened, becoming a bit of a grin. "Yes…and what are you going to do about it? Call for the pharaoh to come save your tiny little ass again?"

Malik didn't reply, his eyes still wide.

"Malik, please," Ryou started anxiously, one hand holding onto Marik's tightly. "Please? Please don't be mad…he came back, and I'm so happy, please don't be angry."

Again, Malik didn't reply, merely staring at Marik with immobilized alarm.

"Marik, please be nice!" Ryou pleaded, turning back to his lover. "Please? Don't scare Malik. Can't you just be a little nicer to him?"

"Why should I?" asked Marik dryly. "He is the one who sent me to the realm of darkness, did you know?"

"I know," Ryou said, looking anxious again. "But please…come on…can't you guys work something out? For me?"

Silence fell upon them all, leaving Ryou fidgeting nervously. He didn't want to lose Marik now…not now when Marik had finally come back. Feeling terribly panicky, Ryou shut his eyes tight and wound both his arms around Marik's waist, clutching tightly with all his strength.

Strangely enough, it was Malik that took the first step, walking hesitantly towards his darker half. Looking slightly surprised and suspicious, Marik stiffened slightly, his arms wrapped tightly around Ryou's shoulders to keep him from shaking.

With every step he took, Malik could remember every word of every slumber party conversation. How they would talk about their former lovers, and how'd Malik missed Bakura so terribly and how Ryou missed Marik so terribly. And now, as Malik slowly took a step forward, then another, he finally made up his mind. He was the one to send Marik to the Shadow Realm indirectly, so indirectly, he was responsible.

_"I'm really sorry Ryou…I really am."_

_"I know…I know…" Ryou smiled, looking a little tired. "It's the third time you've said sorry since we've had this conversation. I know you know that I love Marik, and I know you had your own priorities in mind. I just wish everyone could give him a second chance."_

Well, he was going to give that second chance now.

Forcing a deep breath, he finally halted in front of Marik and Ryou, and, biting his lip, and sighed.

"Fine…" he said softly, his eyes redirected elsewhere. "Hello, Marik. It's a pleasure to see you again."

There a silence, which Marik broke by bursting out in hard laughter.

"I'm sure," he said, flashing Malik s rueful smirk. "So what's this about now, Light? What are you doing here, anyways? Shouldn't you be screwing with the thief right now?"

At this, Malik's eyes looked instantly hurt, though his face flushed an angry red.

"Don't talk to me about him!" he snapped.

Marik curiously raised an eyebrow. "Oh? So what happened when I was gone? Did you finally realize how much of a real bastard he was?"

"He's not!" Malik yelled. "Don't talk to me about him!"

"Marik, come on," Ryou sighed desperately.

For a moment, Marik stood there, intently analyzing Malik's shaking figure. His smirk widened when they landed onto Malik's wide eyes, noticing immediately the fear and sadness behind them.

"So he cast you away," Marik said simply. "Not surprising."

Indignantly, Malik was about to open his mouth to retort something back, but was cut off when a familiar voice echoed the room. Both Lights gasping, all three of them turned to see the tomb of the Nameless Pharaoh trembling ominously. A faint light had begun to wisp from the socket holding the Millennium Ring.

_"Really, now, Marik. So you've finally come back. I would've never thought it could be so."_

Unfazed, Marik merely raised his eyebrow again, smirking smugly at the light from the tomb. "Let's not be cowards, thief. Show yourself. I'd like to greet you in person rather than this."

_"As do I,"_ Bakura's voice replied, equally as cool. After a blinding flash of light, the golden glow from the tomb began to slither its rays, eventually forming the figure with long, spiky hair…

Within another flash, Bakura was hovering over the tomb, his arms crossed and his figure semi-transparent. On his face was a smirk of his own, one canine grazing the corner of his lips. .

"Let's cut this greeting short," Bakura said cuttingly, his smirk still in place. "Sorry to break up such a happy reunion, but there is a matter of importance I wish to discuss with my host."

"Anything you can say to Ryou you can say to me first," Marik replied just as cuttingly, his voice hard and cold. Bakura made a move to roll his eyes.

"Not quite that simple, shadow-master," Bakura replied coldly. "This is something only between me and my host."

"He has a name you know," Marik replied dryly. Bakura's eye twitched with annoyance, but he was determined to not lose his cool.

"Fine then," he said, looking uncaring. He narrowed his gaze at Ryou, his smirk returning. However, his smirk now was no longer sadistic and arrogant, but bitter and rueful. "Hikari. Sorry to break this sweet reunion up, but you're going to have to abandon Marik."

"What?" Ryou cried out. "Why?"

Bakura's eyes narrowed. "You have a duty to serve, hikari. When my soul was thrown into the Pharaoh's memory world, I would've though it would've taken you along. But I was wrong." He's gaze narrowed even more, turning cold and hard. "So I'm taking you with me."

"What? No!" Ryou cried, clutching tighter to Marik. "No! I don't want to leave him now….please Bakura-sama, don't take me away from him."

At the suffix behind Bakura's name, Marik bristled, his eyes narrowing dangerously. What had Bakura been doing to force Ryou to finally call him something as respectful as a god? Arrogant, smug little bastard…

"As if he will," Marik spoke up coldly, his arm tightening around Ryou protectively. He looked up at the hovering Bakura, whose eyes were still narrowed in a rather seething way. "Ryou is not leaving me, Bakura. So you may as well just give up and return to darkness where you belong."

"I can say the same to you," Bakura snapped. "Your presence among us is interfering my plans with the pharaoh, and I won't let you stand in my way. Ryou has a duty to serve in the pharaoh's memory world and he will come with me, whether he likes it or not."

"Must I, Bakura-sama?" Ryou pleaded. Bakura gave him a flattened look.

"Naturally," the thief said coldly. "Now come with me or lest feel my wrath. Just because I haven't been hurting you lately doesn't mean I'm not going to do it now."

Immediately, Marik had stepped forwards, blocking Ryou away from Bakura. His face was cold and expressionless, as he folded his arms and gave Bakura a piercing look.

"Try me," Marik said simply, the corner of his lips twitching into a smirk.

Bakura's eyes narrowed even further, almost becoming hateful slits. Slowly raising his hand, he opened his mouth to issue a penalty game, when---

"Wait!"

Within another second, Malik, who had almost been long forgotten, had appeared in front of Marik, shielding the two behind him with outstretched arms. Bakura's eyes widened fractionally, as did Marik's, but Malik merely ignored them both, and continued staring up at Bakura with determined eyes.

"Don't do it, Bakura," Malik said softly. "If Ryou goes, then so do I."

A soft gasp was heard, and neither of the three had to turn around to know that it was Ryou who had gasped. "Malik…no…."

For a moment, Bakura's eyes were hard to read. Their bloody depths were clouded with crimson, so distant and so remote.

As though suddenly reaching to a conclusion, Bakura straightened, casually shaking his white hair over his shoulders. Smirking, he uncrossed his hands, and shook them lightly.

"Very well then," he said softly. "Why not?"

"Wait, Bakura!" Ryou cried out, leaping out from behind Marik and Malik and darting forwards. "Bakura-sama, wait---!"

But it was too late. Closing his eyes, Bakura had spread out his hands on either side of him, producing a soft, yellow glow that had begun to consume him. As Ryou ignored boththe Ishtals' attempts to stop him, he hurried forwards, fingers outstretched to stop Bakura from transferring them all to the Memory World.

"Bakura-sama, please wait!"

But the thief either did not hear him, or chose not to care. After a silent instant, the serene glow of gold suddenly flashed, engulfing the darkness with a blinding blaze of light. Crying out, Ryou toppled back, his arms draped protectively over his eyes to shield them. A pair of arms caught him from hitting the ground, and he didn't have to turn around to know that it was Marik who had caught him.

Suddenly the floor began to shift, and the walls began to tremble. Sand sprinkled in drops from the ceiling, splattering onto the ground and scattering grains across the floor. Feeling himself being lifted, Ryou quickly turned around in Marik's arms, clutching onto his lost lover with all his might.

"Ra!" Malik cried out. "What's happening?"

When Ryou dared to open his eyes, he had noticed that he was a rather noticeable distant above the floor. Crying out in fear, he quickly grabbed onto Marik again, his feet beginning to dangle as both of them began to rise higher and higher into the air. Behind him, Malik was being raised as well, floating in the air with nothing to hold on to.

"Bakura!" Marik yelled. "You idiot, stop it this instant!"

But Bakura did not reply, as he was too busy concentrating in his little sphere of light. As they began to rise higher and higher into the air, Ryou could feel his arms trembling. A force was beginning to pull at him from behind, gradually yanking at his jacket to break him away from Marik.

When the force was far too much, Ryou screamed, his arms slipping loose of their grip on Marik. He was toppled back through the air, feeling the wind drag him into a force unknown. With another cry, he shakily reached out a hand towards his lover, terrified to lose him again. He watched as Marik, still floating in the air with large eyes, reach out his own hand to take his. Their shaking fingers were millimeters away from touching, when force increased. Crying out, Ryou threw his head back in pain, before the world turned black.

* * *

_Ow…._

He was lying on something hard, on his back. His head, however, was resting against something soft. Hard little grains smacked him in the face, and, wincing, he opened his eyes.

The sun above him was blazing, looking almost white against the blue sky. No clouds were present among the atmosphere. As Ryou blinked and groaned, squinting against the sunlight, he felt someone gently shake him.

"Ryou? You okay?"

Turning over, Ryou realized that he had been resting on Malik's lap. Hastily, he looked around for his lover, wondering where Marik could be. After a brief search, Ryou found Marik standing off to the distant, watching their surroundings with a scrutinizing glare.

Standing up, Ryou winced when he felt a wave of nausea hit him. He swayed, but was thankfully caught by Malik.

"Whoa…you okay, Ryou?"

"Yeah….yeah, I'm fine," Ryou replied, his voice sounding very faint. "Fine."

"You sure?" Malik asked, his eyes narrowing worriedly. "Your fever isn't gone yet, is it?"

Ryou shrugged. He was about to reply when Marik began to walk towards them, his scrutinizing glare softening when it came to Ryou. Eyes clouding with concern, he reached out and helped Malik steady Ryou, looking at the Light inquiringly.

"You alright, Ryou?"

Ryou nodded. "Yeah…I'm fine. Where are we?"

Marik's expression did not look pleased. "Egypt."

Ryou blinked. "Well…okay, I knew that one. But where exactly…in Egypt?"

Marik's expression did not fade, as he straightened and looked around. "I have a sneaking suspicion, but if I'm right, Bakura will have his ass kicked so hard that he won't be able to sit down for a month."

Ryou wrinkled his nose. "So…what's wrong with this place in Egypt?"

"Apart from no water and no food?" Malik supplied, his eyes growing wide as he also observed his surroundings. Again, Ryou wrinkled his nose, and instinctively leaned back against Marik's chest protectively. He smiled a small smile when he felt Marik's fingers entwine with his own.

"So…maybe we ought to start walking then," Ryou sighed, though he didn't quite mind. Marik was still with him, and that made him pleased beyond comparison. Unable to contain himself, Ryou slowly wrapped his arms around Marik's waist, nuzzling the Egyptian's chest. "Hmn….you're back…I'm so happy."

Marik smirked. "No comment for the public in response, my little thief."

Ryou giggled. Malik rolled his eyes.

"You can tell him you love him with me around too, you know," the Keeper said, with a half-lidded, annoyed look. Marik raised one eyebrow, and sneakily, slithered his hand to Ryou's rear and gave him a soft squeeze. Ryou squeaked.

"I usually do," Marik said casually. "But I highly doubt you'd want me and Ryou and do it right now and make passionate love." Ryou's nose turned pink, but he was fighting to hold back a giggle. Malik rolled his eyes.

"Thank you for such consideration," he responded dryly, crossing his arms. He shot Marik an irritated look. "I can't believe it. I'm stuck in the middle of a desert, with no food, no water, and stuck with _you _until we get somewhere. Where the hell did you come from, anyways? You're supposed to be in the Shadow Realm."

Marik shook his head, looking almost exasperated of his former host's limited knowledge. "Of course not. You didn't think I stole Bakura's Ring just for something to look at, did you? I used it, naturally."

"And what?" Malik asked, raising an eyebrow. "You didn't like, make dolls or something, did you?"

Marik's eyes widened, and blinked. "What the hell?"

Ryou stifled a giggle, stuffing his face into Marik's chest and not daring to look up. Malik snickered, his lips becoming a wry smirk.

"Well, where else did you put your soul?"

Marik gave Malik a deadpanned look. "Where else? I'm not that undignified or pathetic to place my soul in a doll." He smirked again, and wrapped one arm around Ryou's shoulders. "The Rod, naturally. I had always been strong, Malik. When you sent me to the Shadow Realm, my strength did not fade. It remained strong, and having enough of it, I was able to appear through the tomb, and have my own body. Ingenious, isn't it?"

Malik made another face. "Gods, you're even more worse than Bakura is when it comes to that."

Marik twitched, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "Where is he, at any rate? My fingers have been twitching for blood since the Shadow Realm. It's not quite as fun stabbing duel monsters as it is with real people. So where is he?"

"Right here," echoed a voice.

Immediately, all three of them whipped around. Each other them searched their surroundings like mad, but they saw nothing past their horizons.

"Up here, bakas."

Instantly, three heads jerked up towards the sky. And indeed, there floated the thief in question. Wild long, white hair, tumbling down his shoulders, clad in only Ryou's leather jacket. His arms were crossed, and his expression looked amused.

"What the hell are you doing up there?" Marik drawled. "Come down here and fight me like a man."

"Whoever said I was going to fight?" Bakura asked, grinning coyly. "I'm a thief, I steal. Nothing more." He gave them his mock innocent look and held up his hands. "Your fingers twitch for blood, Marik, but mine twitch for something better."

"And what would that be?" Marik asked.

Bakura smirked. "The Millennium Items."

Malik's eyes widened. "The Millennium Items? Why?"

The thief merely ignored Malik, and continued staring at Ryou and Marik.

"Yes…" Bakura hissed. "The Millennium Items. They are mine. They should be mine. And with my eagerly skilled fingers, I can and I will collect them all."

"Good luck," Marik snorted. "You couldn't even get the Rod from me, much less from the pharaoh." He smirked, eying Bakura sardonically as the thief's expression deadened.

"The pharaoh will pay, then," Bakura hissed again, his voice suddenly cold and snappish. "He will pay." Bakura straightened, and his eyes wandered aimlessly over the dunes of sand. As they did, their pupils began to take a different shade. Instead of the normal, blood red shade, they began to turn darker, and browner.

Suddenly, Bakura's attitude shifted, and he straightened, smirking at his surroundings.

"Look," he said softly, a smirk creeping upon his lips again. "Look at what surrounds you all. Everything in my eyes, I can steal. There is nothing in this world that I, as a Thief King, cannot steal. I have stolen this land of its food, its gems, and its lives, three thousand years ago, and I will do it again."

Marik's eyes narrowed. "A Thief King? Truly? You must be joking, Bakura. Egypt is not your home. It is mine."

"And that…" Bakura smirked, "is where you are wrong." He spread out his arms. "These lands had also been my home, Marik. Over there, where the pyramids loom over the valley, is where I used to sleep. Beyond the valley, there is an oasis, where I used to bathe. And beyond that…" Bakura's smirked widened, and his eyes gleamed. "…Is the pharaoh's palace, where I will kill the pharaoh and everything he stands for!"

"You?" Marik laughed, incredulously. "You? If you care to remember, Bakura…you were nothing but a pathetic weakling the last time I saw you. Remember how I ruthlessly banished you to the Shadows, your body writhing and screaming in pain?"  
Bakura's eyes narrowed deadly.

"I am the Darkness, Marik. Nothing can destroy me. After three thousand years, and after this final game with the Pharaoh, you can ask him yourself."

"No need at all," the Egyptian replied coldly, wrapping his other arm around Ryou. "The pharaoh's no longer my top priority, Bakura." He then nuzzled Ryou's throat, causing the white-haired boy to gasp lightly. A tongue flicked past his skin, and instinctively, he arched against Marik's hold.

"Care for him while he lasts," Bakura hissed. "Ryou has a something to settle between us."

Jerking away with surprise, Ryou turned back around, his eyes wide as they stared up into Bakura's colder ones. "What? Why?"

Bakura's smirk returned.

"You will see. And then, my dear hikari, perhaps you will remember the first time I met the Pharaoh, after my imprisonment. What with half-elves, and magician apprentices…?"

Ryou's eyes widened in horror. "Bakura-sama…no!"

The same smirk then became a feral grin. Slowly, Bakura's body started to fade, becoming transparent.

"We will meet again, all of you. I am the Darkness, and I will always come back."

And with that, the thief disappeared.

* * *

.Wow,I know, that was really short. I'm really sorry though...I hate writing this part of the plot. That's why I'm not in such an eager mood to write it. But already, who has the feeling that Marik's being a little bit more evil this time, eh? Finally! 

(It's annoying, can't you tell? If I make Bakura evil, then Marik has to be good. If I make Marik evil, then Bakura has to be good. OH WELL. IT WORKS OUT!)

At any rate, don't be too surprised if Marik's going to act really snappy and really evil. I finally got him canon-ized, so don't get mad at me!

I'll try to get the lemon chapter up soon.

READ AND REVIEW

(Oh yeah, btw. For those who still are confuzzled, basically, Marik did pull a Bakura move...he put his soul into the Millennium Rod, so that when he was resting inside it, he could regain a ton of energy, so that when he was revived, it was enough to create and actual body.

Don't ask me too much. I just did it that way because I hate how most fics just have Marik and Bakura pop out of nowhere, so I like something logical to happen when it's concerning their ability to exist outside of their hikaris.)


	6. Love Shack

Weee, updated. Nothing much to say, other than the fact that I may be slow in updating for the future. Final exams are coming up. T.T.

At any rate, this chapter was inspired by my math teacher. His story was:

"A man and a woman get into an arguement and each leaves thier house, calle the 'love shack.' The man goes in this direction, and the woman goes in this direction. However, when the m an realizes he's been so bad to his wife, adn the wife realizes that she's been bad to her husband, they come back and have a 'good night's sleep' if you know what I mean..."

My class: EW, MR. WONG!

"Hey! Live with it! This is the story of my life, okay? Anyways, it's cold in...Edmonton. They HAVE to turn up the heat SOMEHOW."

My class: "But that's so WRONG, Mr. WONG!"

Mr. Wong: " You want something gross? Okay." (he names the two people 'Bob' and 'Joe.)

Me and Yaoi fans at the back, "GO MR. WONG! WOOOO!"

XD So this chatper is inspired by Mr. Wong. Thank you, Mr. Wong. It's so inspirational to learn about yaoi when we're technically learning algebra. XDD

So, here we go. Chatper Six.Who gets the feeling that Marik's being a real bastard this time? (sweatdrops) Oh well. I'll try to get him nicer. He goes nicer/fluffier in the end, lik in the end of NK the first. It's just that...well, he's easily pissed more so in the beginning, because of living in the Shadows, etc...

* * *

Chapter Six: Love Shack

"I swear to Ra, he's an albino Cheshire Cat."

"Marik," Malik whined, sighing exasperatedly.

Ryou sighed as well, but moved closer to Marik, having the need to feel his lover pressed to him so close. "I suppose he is. He's as deranged as one too, sometimes."

"He is not!" Malik said indignantly, stomping his first. "Bakura's a wonderful person!"

Marik snorted.

After wandering about after Bakura's departure, they had managed to stumble to a nearby village. As Bakura had previously mentioned, there was indeed, an oasis past the valley, and a village beyond that.

Though despite the hot, blearing sun, the marketplace of the village was packed with activity. Men and women clad in linen skirts and thin robes trampled across intersecting dirt roads, with heavy luggage on their backs. Dirtied linen strips were draped across tall, wooden sticks, canopying the occupiers who were selling merchandise.

As they approached the village, however, the citizen's eyes grew wide, and wary. Noticing this look, both Malik and Marik prepared themselves for the superstitious rumors about to be told, but Ryou, so oblivious and naïve, broke out into an excited grin at the bustle of the marketplace.

"Oh wow…" he breathed. "This is….amazing…"

A particular village man shot him a dirty look from behind, his eyes lingering on Ryou's white hair. Marik instantly bristled, and promptly stalked forwards, grasping Ryou's wrist in his.

"Keep to me," he muttered. "I don't want you getting lost."

Sighing through a smile, Ryou gently took Marik's hand. "I won't get lost," he insisted gently. "I'm just really excited."

"I know you are," Marik said, standing tall as he noticed more piercing eyes boring through them. He made a face. He didn't want to tell Ryou how he knew these people were prejudiced…it would hurt Ryou's feelings. But then again…he didn't want Ryou hurt…

"Oh, wow!" Ryou gasped, and promptly stopped by a stall. Jerking to a stop after him, Marik backed up, and raised an eyebrow cynically as Ryou's eyes grew wide. "That looks delicious!"

Eyebrow disappearing into his hairline, Marik came up closer from behind Ryou. Looking over the albino's shoulder, Marik saw a large plate, which was laden with an equally large tropical fish. Its fins and scales were obviously beautiful; even in the dim sunlight of the stall, its scales twinkled as though little rainbows. A delicious, hot, and salty aroma floated beneath Marik's nose, and immediately he could see why Ryou was so taken by it.

"Is there ever anything else on your mind other than food, my little thief?" Marik whispered into his ear, a smirk tugging at his lips. Hearing the word 'thief', the shopkeeper immediately glared at Ryou, and promptly took away the platter. Another man came up to Marik, as Ryou bent away to gaze at the fish platter.

"I suggest you get out of here," the man hissed, linen hood draping across his eyes. "We don't want any trouble here. Why did you bring a demon here into the village?"

"He's no demon," Marik hissed back in Egyptian. "So back off."

The teller wrinkled his nose, and sent Ryou a venomous look. "All right. But I've warned you. If there's anything that goes wrong in this village, it will be the demon's fault. A girl with white hair was a demon too, and when she went into a village, the pharaoh's soldiers began to take everyone away." The man looked back, his lips curled back into a spitting snarl. "Get him out as soon as you can. Any trouble at all and it will be the demon's fault. We don't like omens."

"And I don't like threats," Marik snapped back. He looked back at Ryou, and tugged lightly against Ryou's hand. Ryou ignored him, still staring at the food.

Distinctly, the first man, who had taken away the plate, muttered something foul beneath his breath as his wary eyes lingered on Ryou's hair. "Bitch…"

Sending the man a deadly look, Marik tugged lightly against Ryou's hand. The albino had been oblivious to the obvious body language, and was still staring at the fish with large, whining eyes. Losing a bit of his patience, Marik jerked roughly against Ryou's wrist, and promptly pulled him away.

"Come on," he growled. "We can't trade anything for it, anyways. Let's go."

Still staring back at the fish stall, Ryou made a soft whining noise in his throat. When Marik jerked against his wrist again, he made a soft, disappointed sound instead, and turned back to face his lover. Marik shook his head.

"I swear to Ra, is there anything else always on your mind except food?"

Ryou grinned cutely. "No."

Rolling his eyes, but smiling all the same, Marik pulled Ryou next to him. His smile grew when he felt Ryou cuddle him closely, still oblivious to the murderous and frightened stares that he was attracting.

"What are you staring at?" Marik hissed in Egyptian behind Ryou's back. The scowling woman, whom he had been addressing, squeaked, and quickly shoved her son behind her. Ryou, having no idea what had just transpired, nuzzled Marik lightly in the throat.

"What did you say?" Ryou mumbled innocently, looking content. Marik snapped his attention back to his lover.

"Nothing," he said, and wrapped a protective arm around Ryou's shoulders. "Nothing at all."

"OI! MARIK!"

Blinking, both lovers turned around at the sound of the voice, and found Malik streaking towards them.

"OI! MARIK! RYOU!"

"Shut up!" Marik roared behind him. "Gods, you want the whole nation to hear?"

Looking quite out of breath, Malik abruptly skidded to a stop in front of the two, and clutched a stitch in his side.

"Found…a place for us…to stay!" he panted, but looking triumphant all the same.

Marik cocked an eyebrow. "How?"

Malik smirked ruefully, leaning on his knees to regain breath. "Sometimes it's not bad to be a tomb keeper, I'll give you that," he said. Straightening, he took Ryou's other hand, and gestured for both of them to follow. "We'll live in our underground home. They even got servants there to help us, and it's right underneath the palace! Great services!"

"Dear Ra…" Marik muttered, his cheek twitching. "You expect me to go back to that hellhole?"

"Where else could we stay?" Malik asked reasonably. "It's not like these people are going to welcome us in their homes. Look at what we're wearing!" At this, Malik seemed to suddenly realize Ryou's attire. "Great gods, Ryou! You're wearing THAT?" He jerked against the shoulder of Ryou's leather jacket. "Take it off! It's boiling!"

"No, no, I'm fine," Ryou insisted, but began taking off the jacket anyways. He yelped and jerked his hand away from the sleeve of his coat, and waved it like mad against the air. "It's HOT!"

"Exactly!" Malik cried, looking exasperate. "Gods." With that, he quickly took Ryou's jacket, throwing it from hand to hand, as though it were a plastic hot potato. "Come on. We're going to my place."

Again, Marik's cheek twitched, threatening to pop a vein. He hated his home. Hated it. It was bad enough having to relive its surroundings in the Shadow Realm, and now he was just plain pissed.

However, Ryou seemed to notice Marik's distress, and shifted awkwardly on his feet. "Ahh…are you sure, Malik-kun? I mean, there must be someplace we can stay…maybe we can ask Yami Yugi, or something."

Malik snorted loudly, and jerked a thumb at Marik. "What, with HIM around? Yami Yugi's going to faint when he sees that. He's already got Bakura to deal with, since Bakura's somewhere in this memory world too."

"Maybe we can stay with Bakura?" Ryou asked hopefully. " I mean, I really don't mind. Maybe we can find him, and ask him if he's got anything to recommend. Isn't there an inn, or something?"

"Stay with Bakura?" Marik repeated incredulously. "You've got to be joking, Ryou." Ryou shrugged.

"It's only temporary," he said. "And I'm sure Bakura won't mind as along as I behave."

"_You _behave?" Marik repeated, his eyes widening. "What the hell as he done to you?"

"Nothing," Ryou said, looking confused. "Bakrua-sama has been alright to me, lately. We just don't talk to each other much. If he asks me to do something, then I do it, or else he'll hurt me again. If I don't fight back, he won't either."

Again, Marik felt a vein about to pop, this time, behind his neck.

"Fine," he snapped. "We'll just go with the underground hellhole."

Ryou looked hurt, and then shifted his gaze to the sand. Silently, he took Marik's hand, and didn't speak another word.

"Alright then," Malik said cheerfully, clapping his hands. "Let's go then. We have to go down the cellar way." He looked back at Marik, and sighed understandingly. "Look, I know what you're feeling. I really don't want to go back either. But it's the best place we've got." Casting a look at Ryou, he edged closer to Marik, and leaned up to whisper in the Darkness's ear.

"The villagers don't like him, Marik," Malik whispered in Egyptian. "If we don't get out of here soon, they'll start calling the palace guards. Or worse, they might gang a mob and stone him out here." Malik grimaced. "I don't want that to happen to Ryou."

"Malik? Marik?"

Instantly, both Ishtals jerked away from one another, and glanced at Ryou. The albino had his head cocked to one side quizzically. "What's going on? Are you guys actually getting along now?"

Both Marik and Malik made a face. "Sure," Malik said, making an obvious show of looking away innocently. Ryou laughed and rolled his eyes. Suddenly, he sneezed.

"Ryou?" Malik asked inquiringly. "You alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Ryou insisted, sniffing as he rubbed his nose disdainfully. He sent Malik a sunny smile. "Someone must be talking about me behind my back, I suppose."

Both Marik and Malik had to suppress the urge to wince.

* * *

"Well, this is it," Malik sighed quietly. "Through there."

Ryou winced slightly, and turned back to Marik. Gaze still upon the ground, he mumbled quietly, "You sure you want to go down for the night? I'm sure Bakura-sama must know somewhere…"

"I don't need the thief to tell me where I can sleep or not," Marik snapped idly. "This is my home, and I'm not going to let him stalk around as king here. Got it?"

Quietly, Ryou nodded. His gaze was still focused on the ground. "Okay," he said softly.

Quizzically, Malik shot the two lovers a look. Strange…they seemed so much more distant presently. Granted, Marik was being his usual self: cold, heartless, and cruel. And Ryou was still Ryou: sweet, soft, quiet and shy. But…it was strange. Ryou and Marik were never like that around each other, and Malik knew that perfectly well. Within each other's presence, they were what they lacked…sweet and caring, strong and bold…

"Okay," Malik spoke up. "Here we go."

The threesome was standing in front of a dirty cellar door. Sand skittered across its wooden panel, dusting against sides as a breeze softly flew between them. Golden clouds curled from behind their feet, before evaporating into the air.

Behind them the stone ground was scattered with cracked pillars. Many were half-buried beneath the dunes and molehills of gold, but some were still erect, looming against the horizon. Beyond the dirt road of cracked tiles and former marble, was the small creek that Bakura had mentioned. And in the distance, was the village from whence they came. A large palace stood between the ancient monuments and the village, blocked off by large, stone walls.

Ryou looked away from the palace. Indeed, it was grand, and it was glorious, with its domed roofs and rectangular archways. Yet, something about the palace made him fidget. Perhaps it was just the thought of Yami and Yugi again. After all, Yugi had been his first and closest friend since…ever. Would they succeed in their memory world? Would they find out that he and Marik were together?

"Heave up!"

Startled back into reality, Ryou jerked his gaze towards Malik. The Egyptian Light had wrenched the handle of the cellar door open, and was creating a cloud of dust in the process. Grimacing, Ryou took a step back, and began to cough violently into his sleeve.

Malik coughed as well. "Oi, Ryou. You okay?"

Coughing still, Ryou nodded. "Yeah," he hacked. "I'm fine. Just the dust."

Malik nodded, one eye squinted against the grains of sand. "Okay. Well, get in then. I'll shut the door real quick so you don't get an allergy or something."

Ryou nodded gratefully. "Thanks, Malik." And with that, he hurried through the open entranceway, almost stumbling on the crumbling stone steps. Behind him, he heard Malik patter quickly after him, soon followed by the calm, crisp steps of Marik.

Malik coughed into his fist, and smiled a rueful smile at Marik when the Darkness calmly shut the door behind him. "Home sweet home."

Cold expression hardly fazing, Marik shortly said something in Egyptian, which in turn, made Malik burst out laughing.

"Hey," he protested. "Innocent ears here." He pointed at Ryou, who blinked in confusion.

"Huh?" Ryou blinked, who was beginning to smile cutely again. "Something I miss?"

Malik sniggered. "Should I really tell you, Ryou? After all, you wouldn't even use that slang you taught me…"

Ryou looked aghast. "Malik! Why do you keep on referring to that?"

Malik grinned. "I love…teasing you?" he tried. Ryou rolled his eyes, but grinned back all the same.

"You're hopeless."

Malik laughed. "Yeah, I know."

"Excuse me, Master Ishtal?"

Blinking, both present Ishtals looked up, and found a woman clad in linen skirts bow humbly before them. She seemed of young age, for her figure was slim and curvaceous, beneath the swathes of creamy linen. Straight, raven hair swayed beneath her shoulder, decorated with braids of gold and frayed bronze. The rest of her hair lay hidden beneath her shawl, but they seemed to end in rather odd spikes, resembling somewhat like Ryou's own. Her eyes were a deep crystal blue.

"Master Ishtal?"

"That'd be us," Malik said, gesturing to himself and Marik, who barely even acknowledged the woman with a nod. The woman smiled, her hands clasped together in a very servant-style fashion.

"It's so wonderful for you to have come!" she said, her voice sounding mature yet excited. "Feel free to consider us your servants, any time, Master Ishtals. I am Arsinoe…" At this, she curtsied and bowed again. "…Head of the servants crew. We'd love to do anything at all to make your stay as comfortable as possible. Should you need anything, just ring for any one of us, and a servant will be there in an instant to gladly assist you."

Marik smirked. "That's excellent then. Exactly how many of you live in this establishment?"

Arsinoe smiled. "Many. So many, I've already lost count. But it doesn't matter. We live here, beneath the grounds, to solely assist the Tomb Keepers. It's such an honor to become one!"

Marik and Malik both bristled, but stayed silent as Arsinoe continued her speech. Finally, when she was ready to draw breath, she quickly straightened and swept her arm out in a flourish.

"Come," she said. "We have many large bedrooms to suit you." Her eyes gleamed as they raked over to Marik's gorgeous form, and she seductively arched an eyebrow. "And many a services within."

Marik raised his own eyebrow cynically, but smirked all the same. Arsinoe suddenly turned on her heel, her linen skirt billowing behind her.

"Come," she said. "May I show you our chambers? We have a special one specially suited for you, Master Ishtal. By the way…may I be so bold as to ask you masters of your names?"

"I'm Malik," the Light hurriedly said. "And that's Marik. And this is our friend, Ryou." He gestured to the white-haired boy, who smiled politely and nodded his head.

"Hello."

Upon seeing him, Arsinoe suddenly bristled slightly, her cerulean eyes narrowed in suspicion. An immediate, yet soft click of her fingers welcomed shadows from the corridors, all closing in from behind on Ryou. Hearing the footsteps, Ryou spun around, fear shining in his eyes as more shadows approached him. Marik's eyes flashed.

"Call them off," Marik commanded sharply. "He is here upon our behalf."

After a moment's pause, Arsinoe clicked her fingers again, and the shadows retreated. Looking anxious, Ryou scooted closer to his lover, and quickly tangled his fingers with Marik's.

Silence fell upon them once again, before being sharply broken by Arsinoe's clicking fingers.

"This way please," she said. "Master Marik, I believe I'll give you the grand master bedroom. Master Malik, if you wish, you may have the one across from it. It is not as big, but it does have a larger pool, and judging how ravaged you look, I suggest you get you into one as quickly as possible." She sent Malik a playful smile, and Malik laughed good-heartedly.

"Yeah, I suppose."

As they walked towards the supposedly grand bedrooms, Ryou couldn't help but feel a little claustrophobic of his surroundings. The corridors were all dark and narrow, and the floor tiles were all crooked and bent. The walls were a scratchy shade of gray, and the oil lamps cast ominous oily ripples of light against the darkness. He could tell why Marik would despise this place, after so long.

Finally, after a couple minute's worth of walking, they stopped by an end of a corridor. On one side, was a delicately engraved door, with a golden carved handle.

"That is your room," Arsinoe said to Malik, smiling as she opened the door. Malik's eyes widened, impressed, and without further ado, he winked at Ryou and disappeared into his room. Ryou shook his head and smiled, wondering what possible riches had impressed Malik so, since his name did mean "king" in Egyptian.

"And this," Arsinoe said to Marik, her eyes averted to the ground, a small smirk on her lips, "is your room, Master Marik."

She opened it with a flourish, and when Ryou peeked in, he gasped.

Indeed, it was a grand room. It was large beyond comparison, lined with pillars against the side of the walls, draped with deep curtains of royal red. Golden strands hung from the rods upon the pillars, giving the room a rather refined look. The walls weren't a scratchy gray…if anything, they were a nice shade of cream, the same color as the linen Arsinoe was wearing.

A large bed was placed in the corner of the room. Upon it was swathed with comfortable pillows, and a deep comforter matching the curtains. A wonderfully sculpted desk stood next to the bed, where a candle had been laid.

Though the oil lamps were still a bit of a turn off, Ryou had to admit, the room was very nicely done.

Smirking, Marik strolled in, nodding his head in approval. "Not the best I've seen, but it will do."

Arsinoe bowed her head humbly. "Thank you, Master Marik."

Slowly breaking out into a smile, Ryou was about to follow Marik in, when Arsinoe suddenly gripped his wrist. Blinking, he turned back, casting his chocolate eyes upon her cerulean blue ones. This time, they were not mysterious as when she had first greeted them, but hard and cold.

"What are you doing?" she hissed lowly. "Get out here. You're not supposed to be with Master Marik at all, unless you're his slave or something. Are you?"

Ryou blinked, his eyes wide and taken quite aback. "Excuse me?" he asked, feeling a little put out and confused. He winced when Arsinoe increased her grip on his wrist.

"You're not safe here," she whispered harshly, "if you're just a friend of Marik's. You have to be something of value to him to survive here."

"And what do I need to be protected from?" Ryou asked, blinking in confusion.

Arsinoe made a cold, hard face. "Just get out of here, de---"

"Excuse me."

Sharply, Arsinoe turned about, and was met eye to eye with Marik's colder and harder stare. Looking flushed, she quickly stepped away and bowed hastily. Marik's expression did not lighten as his hand slowly claimed Ryou's own.

"Excuse me?" Marik asked again. "Would you care to repeat that while I'm listening?"

Arsinoe's eyes widened, looking stupefied and shocked at the same time. Marik's eyes narrowed.

"I thought not," Marik snapped. "And for your information, if anyone wants to get to Ryou, they will have to get through me first. It does not matter whether he is labeled as my friend, my lover, or my slave. Anyone who wants to get to Ryou goes through me first. Got that?"

Arsinoe nodded her head madly. "Yes, Master Marik."

Marik's gaze was calculating for a moment, before he turned around, dragging Ryou with him. "Alright then. You are dismissed." He turned back around, and gave her a cold stare. "If anyone asks, Ryou is my slave, but let it be known between you and me that he is more than that. And if anyone dare speaks a word about him behind my back, they will suffer. Is that clear?"

Again, Arsinoe nodded her head frantically. "Crystal clear, Master," she stuttered, nodding frantically.

Marik nodded curtly. "Good." And with that, he led Ryou out from the room.

* * *

Within moments in the outside world, Marik had led Ryou to a small, quiet house by the cellar door. At first, it almost seemed to be a gardener's or care keeper's former cottage, but when Ryou looked closer, he could see that it had been abandoned long ago, and was probably used for guest purposes rather than raking tools. Though empty, it supplied cool air from the baking sun, and it had a good view of the pyramids behind the palace.

As Marik opened the door, Ryou idly wondered how time had flown so fast. Night had fallen. The moon was shining high above, glowing like a single, round star in the heavens. As Ryou sighed contently, looking up at the stars, he couldn't help but feel his hear beat again. It would speed up and almost vibrate against his ribcage, swelling for the love and passion he had almost forgotten, and was overjoyed to have again.

However, he was jostled out of his thoughts when Marik suddenly grabbed his wrists, and slammed him up a wall. Gasping in surprise, Ryou distinctly heard the clack of the door being shut, before the night had sunk the room into darkness. A flitter of silver dusty rays slivered through the window, casting the moonlight upon the floor and setting a rather romantic mood.

Within moments, Ryou felt his neck being massacred by eager bites, and gasped again.

When he opened his eyes again, they were met with Marik's deep amethyst ones. They were no longer cold and hard, as Ryou once found Marik's eyes so, or like when they were passing through the village, but deep and warm with lust and desire.

"So delectable…" Marik breathed, nuzzling Ryou's nose and looking down upon him intently. Ryou giggled, his heart quickening its beat as his breathing slowly became more erratic. It was quite obvious what Marik wanted to do…"You know how much I miss you, right?"

Ryou smiled. "Of course…" He gently placed a kiss on Marik's lips.

Suddenly, Marik gradually leaned in, his tongue licking lightly against the base of Ryou's throat. Ryou gasped softly, arching slightly as he felt Marik fix his lips upon his skin, before gradually suckling upon it. Softly moaning, Ryou arched again, before his hand began to slither up Marik's spine on its own will.

"M-Marik…" Ryou whispered, unintentionally husky. "M-must we do this now…? It is our first night together…"  
"Exactly," Marik purred back, before sinking his canines into Ryou's flesh. Ryou gasped sharply, his nails suddenly raking deep into Marik's flesh. Moaning louder, Ryou writhed lightly in Marik's arms against the wall, feeling the Darkness crush him tighter against its stone surface.

"B-but M-Marik…" Ryou breathed, as he felt Marik's hands firmly wander against his figure, "…I'm not…I'm not feeling so well…my head is so hot…."

"And how hot you are indeed," Marik breathed, "don't worry Ryou…Marik will make things feel all good again…"

Hands instantly slithered beneath Ryou's shirt, snaking up his spine. Shuddering, Ryou threw his head back, his head thick with the growing pleasure as Marik began to messily undo their garments. Naughty hands ripped open seams, exposing porcelain and caramel skin, while needy lips massacred Ryou's exposed skin with desperate sucks and bites.

"Ohhh gods…" Ryou breathed. "Is there ever anything else on your mind except my body…?'

Another bite on the throat, and Marik's chuckle was heard. " No."

Heat began to steam between them, wavering between them and sinking the two in perfumed air of ardor and love. Gasping raggedly, Ryou gripped tighter on Marik's arms, his fingers trembling as Marik trailed his tongue up his throat.

"Oohh gods…"

More muffled rips were heard, and within seconds, each of their garments laid on the floor, forgotten for the night. Gasping, Ryou shivered. The coldness of the room could barely be felt from the fire between them. Distinctly he felt hot…but it must've been just Marik against him…just Marik with his chest pressed up against his, and his knee being saddled beneath Ryou's legs.

After a few more sucks and bites, Marik's hands then decided to explore the forgotten land of Ryou's skin. And their destination this time: Ryou's Ra-damned sexy ass.

Ryou yelped when he found a finger being intruded into his entrance, bucking his hips forwards to escape it. Unfortunately, he should've known he was trapped. Instant bolts of pleasure shot through his throbbing arousal, and even Marik moaned lightly in this throat. Smirking with pleasure, the Egyptian then bucked his hips right back, satisfied to hear a sharp cry of pleasure escape Ryou's lips once more.

"Liking it, my little thief?" Marik whispered, as Ryou panted against him.

Ryou panted again, gulping for breath as he closed his eyes. "Y-yes…oh gods…"

"I like that answer," Marik breathed.

Another buck of his hips sent Ryou's mind spinning again. Crying out, he grasped hard against Marik's neck, diving his hands up into Marik's golden mane. More ferocious bucks massacred his senses, echoing cries of pleasure that simply could not be helped.

One finger in…Ryou gritted his teeth and squirmed uncomfortably. Thankfully, Marik's wonderfully hot arousal distracted him, grinding hard against him as the Egyptian then inserted another finger.

Two fingers in, and they were scissoring him sharply. This time, Ryou cried out in pain, winding his legs tightly around Marik's waist, burying his face into the crook of Marik's neck.

"G-gods…Marik…" Ryou breathed, his voice ragged. "I-It…it hurts…"

Marik did not reply, too busy attempting to find Ryou's pleasure spot with his fingers. Again, Ryou cried out, squirming desperately and caught between pleasure from the front and pain from the back. Fire scratched up his spine, causing him to arc against the wall, his arousal hitting Marik's straight on.

Marik seethed, before bucking harshly right back. Pleasure scorched Ryou's senses once again, and he cried out in pleasure.

Three fingers in, and Ryou threw his head back in pain. He was ready to scream out his lover's name in attempt to relieve the pain, but suddenly, those same fingers began to softly wiggle against his insides. His muscles twitched in anticipation, eager to feel the feeling again. Slowly, the fingers began to expand outwards, stretching his entrance as he lay limply in Marik's arms, panting and gasping.

"M-More…" Ryou gasped, amazed at his own daring. He couldn't help it. He needed it. He needed more. He needed more to relieve that hot swelling between his legs. He needed the release, that explosion to occur…and soon…!

Slowly, Marik slid his fingers from Ryou's entrance, and Ryou screamed in pleasure when he felt himself slowly being lowered onto Marik's equally hot erection. Instant pleasure surged through his blood, making his head slightly dizzy from the overwhelming amount of pleasure. Distinctly, he heard Marik make a moaning noise in the back of his throat, before the Darkness suddenly thrust his hips upwards. Ryou cried out again, his nails digging hard into the base of Marik's spine.

More thrusts, more passionate cries and more fire engulfed the little shack from which they made their love. Cries of passion echoed through the walls, wisping out of the window and towards the shimmering moonlight.

"Oh, gods, Marik!" Ryou cried out again, as Marik roughly impaled his arousal deep into Ryou's body. "MAARRRRRIKK!"

Few more violent thrusts, and with a passionate scream, an explosion of white sparked between them, coating Marik's chest and abs with a thin layer. Another thrust and Ryou felt something explode from within his rear, and he gasped with pleasure. And suddenly, without any warning at all, he wrapped his hands tightly around the back of Marik's head, and crushed their lips together. At first, Marik looked surprised, but after instantly regaining composure, he wrapped his own arms tightly around Ryou's torso, his tongue claiming dominance within seconds.

For a moment, both of them simply stood there, still as one being. It was only after Ryou finally blearily broke the kiss, staring at Marik through misty, half-lidded eyes, did both of them slowly sank to the ground, exhausted from the fervor of their passionate love-making.

Ryou was the first to sink; sliding down the wall, his arms still entwined around Marik's neck. Marik soon followed, his previously throbbing arousal still deep within Ryou. When Ryou finally slid onto his back, Marik followed, hovering above him, damp golden bangs sweeping by Ryou's forehead.

Breathing still irregular, Ryou hazily looked up, his hand gently wiping away the sweat from Marik's forehead. Marik smirked, his own breathing slightly hitched.

"You have no idea how long I've waited to do that again," he breathed. Smirking still, he leaned in and promptly claimed Ryou's lips in a fast and chaste kiss. Ryou giggled, softly because his mind was still replaying those previously fiery moments before his eyes.

"That was…amazing…" he breathed back, looking truly amazed.

Marik chuckled lowly. "It should've been," he whispered, slumping next to Ryou upon the ground. He pulled Ryou close to him, and Ryou happily obliged, snuggling close to Marik's chest. "My little thief…"

"Hmn…Mariku…" Ryou sighed contently back, closing his eyes and curling up in Marik's arms. Oh, Ra, how it felt so good to be in such protective arms again! How he loved Marik's warm arms encircle around him, holding him so close, hearing Marik's heartbeats in his ear. "I love you."

Nuzzling Ryou's hair, Marik slowly nodded. He gently kissed Ryou's cheek, bringing an adorable smile to the younger boy's face.

"Hmn…I love you too, my little thief," Marik whispered back. He held Ryou closer, and closed his eyes. "My little thief…mine….all mine…"

Dark eyelashes fluttered open, revealing dark chocolate eyes deep with love and adoration. Ryou smiled, and closed his eyes again, nuzzling into Marik's chest.

"Yes…I am. Forever yours."

_Forever yours

* * *

Do not hate me for adding Arsinoe. Please don't. I usually hate writing with OC girls, because I always feel so Mary-Sue-ish about them. So please don't hate me for writing in Arsinoe. She doesn't play a too important role, at least, not orginally, but I have a bit of an idea I had been attempting to use for a different story on my Hui Xie account. That's why "Goodbye, Hello, Goodbye Again" was taken down. Cause I finally got that idea to somehow work here. But, I still dont' know. It still in the works._

Btw, Arsinoe is the name of Cleopatra's little sister. XDD Hey, it's the only Egyptian name I know, okay?

**BTW! Please note in your reviews whether or not you think my writing is at a grade nine level or higher! Please state which grade do you think this story is written in! As in,the style, etc. **

THANKS! LOVE YOU ALL!


	7. Memories of a Thief

OMG I CRIED.

I didn't cry as much when I wrote the last chapter for Never Knew one, but OMG I cried SO HARD when I was writing this chapter. SO HARD. And plus, I was listening to the songs of "Prince of Egypt"…T.T So many people have theories of Bakura being a Hebrew back when Yu-Gi-Oh was still underdeveloped, so….heh …heh…. (sobs)

So, hence, I don't own the lyrics at the bottom. They come from "The Prince of Egypt".

Btw, did I mention that there will be Ryou-Bakura bonding in this fic? Not tendershipping, per-say. Just…Ryou-Bakura brotherly…stuff. It'll show in the next chapter.

Oh yeah, LOTS of angst later with Marik and Ryou, then lots of fluff, and TONS of sweet Malik x Bakura stuff in between. Just be fore-warned about the angst…there will be character death in here, but it will not be permanent. I assure you.

OKAY. ON WITH THE CHAPTER!

* * *

Chapter Seven: Memories of A Thief

It was strange sound: Sigh. It seemed to be almost a silken breeze, floating against a moonlight sky. It was an exhale of a breath, a soft gasp of contentment. It was a whisper of love, a hush of lips.

Malik sighed.

Leaning against his bedroom wall, he sighed again. He was draped in only a towel, pinched by his waist. His feet were still wet, and so were his eyes.

In the loneliness of the room, he had silently cried, each tear slipping off his cheek, and into the crystal water of the bath. He had not known why he was crying, but perhaps he was merely wallowing in self-pity again. Marik had come back. Come back for Ryou. Ryou was happy, and no longer lonely, or in despair. Marik, despite all that he had proclaimed to be, whether it be Darkness, Hate, Anger and Sorrow, had come back, fulfilled his promise, and continued to love Ryou in the flesh.

When, oh when would Bakura come back to Malik?

Then again, would Bakura come back at all?

Sighing again, Malik sat himself on his bed. Soft, satin silk nuzzled his thigh lovingly, slipping softly against his skin. Feeling such soft material reminded Malik of Bakura's touch…those soft, pale fingers, the sweet, lush lips. How Bakura would wound his arms around Malik's waist, and nuzzle into his throat, murmuring wordless proclamations of love.

Another tear slipped down Malik's cheek.

Malik had not known had had gone wrong. It had just been…so…different. Bakura had slowly, gradually drifted away, without any reason why. He had not even explained to Malik at all why he had left, and this abandoned Malik with ever-so confusing thoughts.

Malik had always believed Bakura had a good heart. He knew the thief had.

Distinctly, Malik felt like a fool.

Had he allowed Bakura just to play with him? Had Bakura really just wanted lust at night? What were the thief's motivations?

At least Ryou admitted Marik was a bit rough sometimes. Malik couldn't admit anything bad that Bakura had done. And because of that, he felt like a fool.

Sighing, he slipped under the covers, hugging to himself as his heart ached for Bakura's warmth. So lonely…so lonely.

"Why Bakura?" Malik whispered, to nobody in particular, as Bakura probably could not even hear. "Why? Why did you leave? Why did you leave me alone?"

Silence was his only answer.

* * *

Somewhere, on the above world, just above the sand-strewn roof of the underground home, someone sighed.

White hair tickling his shoulder, crimson robe fluttering in the wind, Bakura laid his head against his upright knee, and sighed again.

He had been sitting on a broken-down stone wall, a few meters away from the cellar doors. Behind him, the columns of stone laid cracked on the ground, splintered against the cold, golden snow of sand.

"Malik…" the thief whispered.

No matter how hard he tried, the Thief King would not…could not…forget his former lover. How Malik's smile would lighten his heart, how Malik's hair would tickle his nose. He could not forget how Malik's arms felt so warm, so soothing, so comforting around his neck, and how Malik's beautiful amethyst eyes glowed with childish happiness.

He had not wanted to leave Malik. No. Leaving Malik would be the last thing Bakura would do, but he had to force himself to. He hated his decision, he hated the fact that he could not have at least told Malik one last time that he loved him, and he hated the fact that Malik did not know the truth.

The truth…

Bakura did not want anyone to know the truth. Especially not Malik. Thinking hard, Bakura found it extremely difficult as to whom he could talk to about such a thing. No one could understand. No one could understand the pain of losing friends and family to a greedy darkness. No one Bakura knew could understand the loneliness, the abandonment, the yearning of a tender touch that he had to go through when he was five. No one.

Wind whistled in his ears, and distinctly, whispered a name. A name that possibly Bakura had long forgotten or overlooked, but the very name that he could, perhaps, tell his problems to.

_Ryou…_

Bakura blinked. Not possible. How could he tell Ryou…RYOU of all people, his problems? Ryou knew nothing of pain and loneliness. Ryou knew nothing of abandonment and fear. Ryou only knew good, happiness, and forgiveness. Such a sweet hikari could not ever hear such a burden on his ears.

And plus…how could Bakura go to Ryou, after all he had done to him?

That thought startled him. As the thought silently for a moment, the sand fluttered against his heels, lightly scratching his ankles. There was only silence in the night, softly broken by a gently sigh from the shack across the broken embankment.

Bakura blinked.

No…it was not true. Bakura was the only one who knew Ryou the best. Despite how Marik was learning quite quickly about Ryou, faster than anyone had ever learned, Bakura was still the one who knew the most. Bakura was the only one who knew about Ryou's family, about Amane, and the loving mother Yale, and the neglecting, British father, James. It was Bakura himself who had scared the living out of Amane, who had run to her older brother for protection and care.

No…Ryou was not all happiness and forgiveness. Ryou knew pain. He knew loneliness, and he knew the heart wrenching yearn for love and companionship. Ryou himself had seen his family fall apart before his very eyes. And although that did not quite match the horror of seeing everyone he loved being thrown into a boiling pot, it was the closest thing Bakura had so far.

Bakura could talk to Ryou.

But yet again…how could he? How could he go up to someone he had abused verbally and mentally and physically for years, and ask for help? How could he get over his tomb raider pride and ask a sweet, gentle, simple boy for advice?

Despite his pride, Bakura needed to tell someone. He needed to a let loose his feelings in a tirade of explanations, so he no longer had to live with such a burden. He could never tell Malik, though Malik was the one who need to hear it the most. For the very first time, in all his life, and his reincarnated life, Bakura needed to hide behind Ryou and ask for a favor.

But…he couldn't.

Standing up, Bakura shook his messy crop of white hair, and straightened. He could not get past that obstacle called pride, and now, he would have to consent with another way to ask Ryou a favor.

He didn't care that he'd frighten Ryou out of his wits. The Light was with Marik, and it didn't matter whether Ryou was frightened or not. Marik would be there to comfort him, but what was most important, was Ryou admitting to Malik what he saw.

Sighing, and gaining all the strength of Shadow Magic that he had learned over the years, Bakura closed his eyes, and concentrated hard. That link between him and Ryou wasn't rusty at all, and neither was the link between Malik and himself.

* * *

_Fire. Fire surrounded him by the sides, growing higher and higher towards the darkened heavens. _

_Crying out in fear, Ryou looked around. Where was he? What was going on? Where was Marik? _

_More screams echoed into the air, Ryou among them. A scorched beam had tumbled its way from a nearby roof, and nearly caught Ryou's foot in the making. Yelping, he stumbled back, accidentally crashing into someone. Turning around, Ryou released a shocked gasp._

_"Malik?"_

_  
Eyes widening, Malik gasped equally loud. He was wearing his lavender shirt and black pants, while Ryou was still decked in his jeans. Grabbing his hand, Malik wrenched Ryou away from the fire, and into a nearby house._

_"Ryou! What are we doing here? Where are we?" Malik asked worriedly._

_Ryou shook his head frantically, fear flashing through the tears in his eyes. "I don't know. I really don't know!" He anxiously bit his nails. "Where's Marik? I want Marik!"_

_"RYOU! MOVE!" _

_Without even looking back, Ryou knew that it was Marik that had hurtled against his back. Within mere seconds, both Malik and Ryou were crushed into the corner, with Marik shielding Ryou with his body. Seconds later, a crash was heard, and a roaring of the fire. Ryou cried out in fear as embers flicked past his skin._

_"M-Marik?"_

_"I'm right here," Marik hissed, as a stick of wood crashed onto his spine. "Just peachy."_

_"We have to get out," Malik gasped, coughing as the smoke stung his nose and throat. "The house is going to collapse!"_

_"Ryou," Marik whispered harshly, as his back began to sweat. "Hold onto me."_

_"But what about Malik?" Ryou cried out._

_"Oi, Light!" Marik bellowed. "Follow us right after, you got it?"_

_Malik nodded his head frantically. "Just go!"_

_Clutching Ryou close to his chest, Marik took a deep breath, and hurled himself backwards against the sidewall. The wood splintered, and cracked, before another beam of fire collapsed onto the ground._

_A few more hurls, and with a splintering CRACK, the wall broke apart, sending splinters and shattered wood past them. Wind howled in Ryou's ears as he felt Marik land onto the ground, before the yell of Malik right after._

_"Go! GO!" Marik bellowed. Instantly, all three of them rolled away, before quickly getting up and pelting as far as they could from the house. With a deafening wave of screams and eruption, the house exploded, fire swimming out in clouds. The shock and pressure of the explosion hit Ryou straight on in the back, and with a scream, he toppled forwards and collapsed into a nearby tree._

_"Ryou!"_

_Immediately, he felt two pairs of arms grab his own. Both Marik and Malik threw him to his feet, and after pushing the semi-comatose Ryou onto Marik's back, both he and Malik continued to run. _

_Houses and flames blurred together into a fiery appearance of Hell. More screams occurred and distinctly, each of them heard a triumphant yell of a guard, before the sickening snap of a neck breaking._

_"Quickly! In here!" Marik yelled, and without looking back to see if Malik was following, darted behind a column in an alleyway. Panting, Malik threw himself into the narrow alleyway, noticing how dim it was. The alley was made up entirely of stone walls, so the fire would not be able to climb the walls and collapse the structure upon them._

_"But what if the fire gets in here?" Malik gasped. "Then we'd have no way out!"_

_"There is a way," Marik snapped back. "Back there. It's a small hole, but it will do."_

_"How's Ryou?" Malik exclaimed. "How is he?"_

_Marik's face held a grim look. "Not good." He gently slid Ryou from over his back, and laid the still semi-comatose Ryou against the narrow walls. After a couple of light slaps, Ryou opened his eyes._

_"Where…where are we?" he whispered hoarsely._

_"I…don't know…" Malik admitted, looking nervous. "Ryou, how are you?" _

_The white-haired boy winced. "O-Okay," he replied shakily. _

_Suddenly, a familiar voice echoed into the air. _

_"MALIK!"_

_Blinking, Malik turned around, and to his shock and horror…_

_…he saw himself…a little four-year-old boy, draped in only linen, which was smoking at the edges. The child Malik's large eyes were welled with tears, and looking positively fearful, he shook his head._

_"B-Bakura…?"_

_"MALIK!"_

_Within another second, a young boy, roughly around the age of five, hurried up towards the whimpering Malik. He had short white hair, and large brown eyes. At first, the older Malik had thought that it must've been Ryou when he was small, but when the said Light gasped, Malik knew it was not._

_"Bakura…"_

_"Malik!" the child Bakura yelled, worry welling in his eyes as tears. "Malik, where's mother and father?"_

_"I…I don't know!" the child Malik wailed. He leaned over and clung to Bakura. "Bakura! I'm scared!"_

_Bakura swallowed. "I…I'm scared too, Malik…" Suddenly, the child Bakura's eyes lightened._

_"Malik!" he cried, shaking the other boy's shoulders. "Malik! You have to go back. You have to."_

_The little Malik's eyes widened. "What? NO! Please NO!"_

_"You have to!" Bakura cried out. "You have to!"_

_"No! NO! I DON'T WANT TO!"_

_"Malik, just go!" And with that, Bakura wrenched Malik's arm away. Immediately the older Malik slipped out from the alleyway, deaf to Ryou's cries for him to hold back._

_The child Bakura led the little Malik to a well, and after a brief hug, whispered goodbye. The child Malik's eyes welled with tears, but Bakura looked away._

_"Go. You have to. If you don't, you'll die."_

_"BUT THEN SO WILL YOU!" Malik cried out. "Bakura, please don't, I don't want to go home!"_

_"You have to," Bakura whispered. "You have to…Malik, I'm so sorry, but you have to go…"_

_"THERE YOU ARE, LITTLE RUNT!" _

_Gasping, both boys turned back. A large, looming figure of a guard, strong and muscular, faceless and terrifying appeared before the two, raising a glinting sword high above them. Within in an instant, Bakura fished out a length of rope from the well, and tied to it Malik's waist._

_"GO!" Bakura screamed, and threw Malik into the well._

_Another second later, the sword came down, and Bakura nearly dodged it. Its glinting blade was smothered with dripping blood, splashing Bakura with ruby pebbles as the soldier attempted to raise the sword from out of the well._

_Frightened, the child Bakura took this as a chance, and ran as fast as he could._

_"GET BACK HERE!" the soldier roared._

_"NOT A CHANCE!" Bakura screamed back, and continued to run. _

_The three of them watched as Bakura ran about, ducking beneath fiery embers and cackling, crumbling beams. As he ran about, a hand reached out to grab him, and after dragging him into the same alley that Marik, Ryou and Malik were all occupying, did all three of them noticed the woman that was now holding Bakura protectively in her arms._

_Long, white hair, tinted blue in the darkness, cascaded down her bare shoulders. Her eyes were a deep cerulean blue, and her skin was a faint, caramel shade, covered by a thick, red cloak. Quickly, she captured Bakura's face in her hands, and looked deeply into his eyes_

_Ryou's eyes widened. _

"_Oh…my…god…" he breathed._

_If only her eyes were darker, if only her eyes had been a dark, deep and rich brown…if only her skin was just a bit paler, and her frame a bit softer…_

_"Mother…"_

_"Mother!" Bakura cried, lunging into his mother's arms. The older woman was quick to wrap her arms about her son, comforting him in any way possible. Her firm and rough hands patted their way on Bakura's back, before sliding into his hair._

_"Bakura…Bakura, listen to me," she said firmly. "We don't have long. You have to go. You have to get out of here. Did you get Malik back home?"_

_Unable to speak, Bakura nodded his head._

_"Good," the mother whispered. "Bakura…Bakura, listen to me. Look at me." Her hands then slipped to Bakura's stained cheeks, and raised his head, so that blue eyes met with brown ones. _

_"Bakura, listen to me," the mother whispered harshly. "You must go. There is no other chance for you. I cannot save you any longer. You have to go."_

_'No!" Bakura screamed. "No! What about you? Can't you come with me?"_

_"The pharaoh will know that there are two missing," the mother whispered back, though her eyes were pained. "I must go, Bakura. I know you don't want me to, and you know I don't want to either." Her eyes welled with tears, as she fondly brushed back his hair. "Oh, my Bakura…my sweet little Bakura…"_

_Bakura's eyes welled with more tears, and only sobs came from his lips._

"_M-Mother…" _

_There was a silence between them, only broken by Bakura's crying sobs and his mother's soft, gentle coos. Even Ryou felt his eyes watering. Looking at Bakura…small, little Bakura, being held in his mother's arms…it made even Ryou remember the times when he had cried into his own mother's arms, and how the scene before him looked so familiar._

_Without any further warning, Ryou burst into tears. _

_After a minute's worth of eternity, the mother withdrew from the embrace with her son. Bakura, however, was still sobbing hard, crying into his hands as his mother gently brushed back his croppy bangs._

_"I must go, Bakura…" the mother whispered. "I must go. I will bring a bundle in my hands, to pretend it is you, so that you may be free." A tear ran down her cheek as she held her son's head fondly in her hands. "Oh my son…I want you to be free…I want you to be free…I want you to become the best son that you can be. I was going to watch you become Kuru Eruna's best thief, the bringer of food for our village…" Trailing off, she bowed her head, seeming as though finally realizing that this may have been the last moment she could spare with her son. Taking the cloak, she pressed it against Bakura's small hands, before cupping his cheeks again with her hands. Bakura's eyes rested upon the cloak, and welled up with tears again._

_"Father's cloak…"_

_Bowing her head mournfully, the mother said nothing. After a moment of silence, she raised her face again, and looked straight into Bakura's eyes, her own wet with tears._

_"Bakura…" she whispered. "Bakura, my little prince…remember all that I've taught you. Remember that there are some things you can steal, and some things you can ask. Remember that there are more things precious than gold, or silver, or food and water. Remember that there are some things you can't steal, but that are given to you. Remember, my little Bakura."_

_"I…I will, Mother!" Bakura cried. "I will!"_

_The mother's eyes finally spilled her agony, tears streaking down her face as she held her son close to her. Both their shoulders shook with sobs, as they mother and son held each other one last time. _

"_Remember, my little Bakura…my sweet, little Bakura…" she whispered, "remember… when I am in the Kingdom of Osiris, or in that land called 'Heaven', I will look down upon you, and I will protect you with all my soul and heart. Everyone in this village will. Remember, my little Bakura…you will never be alone. Please, my little Bakura…my little prince…" She kissed his forehead. "Make us proud."_

_With that, she brought her son to her arms one last time. _

_((My son…I have nothing I can give_

_But this chance that you may live_

_I hope we'll meet again_

_If He will _

_Deliver us!))_

_The next few moments were all a terrible blur. One moment those caramel arms were around the son, and the next, a fiery spit of blood and fire flashed before them all, and a scream echoed in the night. The next moment, Bakura was on the ground in the alley, lonely, motherless. He was draped in the red cloak, which was far too big for him, lying in the darkness. More screams lit the night, and Bakura leapt from his place beneath the cloak, and ran towards the entrance of the alleyway._

_Mother…_

_"MOTHER!" Bakura screamed, tears streaming down his cheeks. "MOTHER!"_

_((Hush now…my baby…be still now, don't cry_

_For I have a prayer just for you…_

_Sleep and remember my last lullaby_

_So I'll be with you…when you dream…))_

_In stupefied silence, Ryou, Malik and Marik stood, watching the little Bakura's moments in agony. Malik's eyes had filled with tears, and he was not bothering to brush them away. _

_Was this why Bakura was so bitter? Was this why Bakura spat on Yami's feet, or upon any of the gods that Malik worshipped? _

_Silent and not sure exactly to react to such a thing, Marik only wrapped his arms around Ryou, who was sobbing into his hands. The white-haired hikari continued to cry, for it brought back his own memories of his mother before she had passed on._

_As though the memory of his own mother was too much, Ryou wrenched himself free from Marik's grasp, staring through his fingers as Bakura sank to his knees in defeat. Ryou recognized that glance. Those deadened eyes, those weakened knees…the silent tears that would not cease…yes, Ryou remembered them all, for he himself had cried that very same way when his mother had died as well._

_Not sure exactly what had possessed him to do so, Ryou took a step forward. His arms were limp by his sides as he took another step, and another, until he had reached the defeated form of little Bakura. _

_Once again, being led by only his heart, Ryou sank to his knees behind Bakura. Closing his eyes, the white-haired Light wound his arms around the smaller, cowering figure, bringing the distraught boy into a heartwarming hug._

_And yet…though it was supposed to be a memory, or maybe a dream…the little Bakura blinked and looked back. His eyes were unfocused, as though he could not see Ryou, but knew of something that was holding him, and comforting him. More tears swelled into the smaller Bakura's eyes, and without any warning, any word at all, he collapsed into Ryou's arms, and both of them cried._

* * *

It was his own sobs that had awakened him.

Eyes snapping open, Ryou shot up, breathing heavily against the coldness of the room. His body trickled with sweat, and his eyes were welled with tears. One word was whispered through his lips as he fought to regain his breath from his shortened lungs.

"_Mother…_"

That dream…that dream…it had frightened him beyond belief. He had not missed his mother in so long. Having dwelled upon her death since he was seven and almost died of it, he had grown to adapt his life of loneliness, and hadn't dreamed of his mother since he was fourteen.

And yet…even though that woman in his dreams _wasn't_ his true mother…the resemblance they bore was frightening. Seeing that woman had brought Ryou memories of warm, slender arms and long, soft white hair, and melodious voices. His mother had been shy and quiet, soft and serene, and any moment spent in her presence had eased away his worries. And now, the lack of that presence scared Ryou again, bringing frightened tears of homesickness and fear.

"Ryou?"

Opening his eyes, Ryou was met with Marik's worried amethyst eyes. Hiccupping, Ryou suddenly wound his arms tightly around Marik's neck, and sobbed into his chest.

Blinking, Marik hesitantly wound his arms around Ryou's waist, tentatively patting his back. It had been so long since Ryou had cried like this in his arms. And because of that, Marik wasn't exactly sure how to comfort Ryou, but made an attempt all the same.

"Ryou…? Hey…what's the matter?"

But Ryou did not reply, merely sobbing harder and harder against Marik's chest. At lost as to what to do, Marik merely patted and rubbed Ryou's back comfortingly, while whispering soft comforts into his ears.

"Hey…it's okay…what happened? Did you have a bad dream?"

It was what Marik suspected, anyways. Though he wasn't sure why, the dream he himself had just had…what with burning villages and screaming villagers…it had been almost…shared. As though he could feel its lingering presence upon Ryou, as though Ryou himself had witnessed the same dream.

After a few minutes' worth of sobbing, Ryou slowly fell silent. After Marik was convinced that Ryou had fallen back asleep, he eased himself back onto the floor, and closed his eyes at well.

Stifling a hiccup, Ryou quietly slid from Marik's protective grasp. Despite how badly he wished to talk to Marik, despite how much he _needed _to talk to Marik…there really was only one person Ryou could talk to.

_Let's just hope he's still there…_Ryou thought, sniffling softly as he stepped out of the door.


	8. Bakura Bonding

Eugh. I hate this chapter. It was meant to be a very difficult chapter, as it was hard to get everyone's emotion all right. And yes, I made Marik finally evil. (shifts uncomfortably) I'm not used to writing Marik evil, but...(shrugs)

As I said before, I hate this chapter because it's all choppy and stuff, and I didn't have very much time to edit. Also, I hate it becauseit was supposed to be a very delicate and fragile chapter...it was supposed to be used to describe the beginning of different emotions between the characters, but because of lack of sleep, I didn't manage to pull it off as gracefully as I thought I could.

At any rate, don't hate me for whatever happens to Marik in this chapter. He's just confused. After a couple more chapters of angst, he'll get over it and everything will be alright. And yes, we will have tons of Bakura x Malik stuff later.

Read and Review!

(Oh yes, for the Prince of Egypt lyrics down there... I changed some of the words to fit Bakura's backround. Just to mention it so this place doesn't screw me up for it.)

* * *

Chapter Eight: Bakura Bonding

After getting properly dressed (and trying his best to ignore the rips in his shirt), Ryou left the small shack from which he and Marik had made their love. The night wind was a cool, gentle breeze, coaxing small grains of sand to tide over his bare feet.

Upon meeting with the night, Ryou faltered for a moment, looking about for any signs of Bakura. Normally, he would not even _dare _approach the darker half, but yet, Ryou felt something…or perhaps the lack thereof…. like a presence. It was although he could not feel the radiating darkness of Bakura any longer.

After about three minutes' worth of walking, Ryou stopped by one of the wells near the entrance of the maze. As he noticed the leaning columns and cracked floors, he realized something. Peering into one specific, cracked well, Ryou couldn't help but wince as it brought memories of a specific child being thrown down for protection.

This had been where Kuru Eruna once stood.

Wincing lightly, Ryou got up from the well, and continued to walk. After strolling down one of the many crude roads, he found Bakura on an old, broken-down wall. The thief had his back to him, and Ryou had to squint to make sure it was his former darker half.

How strange did Bakura look.

Short, croppy white hair lay as a mess against his neck, brushing his shoulders. Though the red cloak he wore concealed the body beneath, Ryou could tell how broad Bakura's shoulders were, and how strong his torso looked. Ryou blinked. Very strange. The Past Bakura and the Future Bakura looked almost nothing alike, except the hair.

Ryou took a deep breath. "Bakura…?"

Snapping about, Bakura immediately turned, glaring menacingly at the soft hikari behind him. Ryou's eyes widened as Bakura's own trailed about him, as though almost analyzing him, as a predator would. Ryou almost cocked his head in thought.

_What?_ he thought. _No snicker? No taunting remarks? No, "Why hello, ore no hikari, what drove you into insanity to see me today?"_

Even Ryou thought he deserved Bakura's odd look after that thought.

Bakura's narrowed eyes finally broke their gaze, and he turned back. "What are you doing here, ore no hikari?"

Awkwardly, Ryou shifted upon his feet, staring at the sand.

Bakura sighed loudly, running a ring-adorned hand through his locks. "Did you have a bad dream?" he mocked.

At first, Ryou was silent, before his soft voice drifted to Bakura's ears.

"Yes…but I don't think it scared me as much as you."

Bakura was silent, half torn between denying that he was afraid of such a thing, or telling Ryou to get the bloody hell away.

However, he was broken out of his thoughts when Ryou made his way towards him, sitting down quietly on the stone wall. They were roughly about two feet apart, but even then, they seemed too close for comfort. When Ryou spoke again, his voice was soft, serious, and solemn.

"Why did you give me that dream, Bakura-sama?"

It was now Bakura's turn to be silent.

Dammit. He hadn't realized that Ryou would be running to _him _instead of Marik. However, as Bakura dwelled upon it more, he supposed it made more sense than he initially thought. After all…that's why he had come to Ryou in the first place…because they shared the same experiences…and the same pain…

"What do you think?" Bakura asked shortly.

Ryou was quiet for a moment, distantly in contemplation. "I think…" he said softly, as though he was afraid to suggest it, "…that…you're trying to tell me something…and I think I know what it is. But …now that I know…I don't know what I'm supposed to do with it…or you."

Bakura arched an eyebrow. "Oh? And what exactly do you think I'm trying to tell you?"

Ryou made a grimacing face, as though he dared not mention the massacre. "…Something…is it something about…your family? Your friends? Malik?"

"And what about them?"

"….I…don't know," Ryou whispered at length. As he thought about it more, however, he remembered the mother's sweet, soft voice, and it brought tears to his eyes.

_(( Hush now, my baby, be still now, don't cry…_

_For I have a prayer just for you…_

_Sleep and remember my last lullaby_

_So I'll be with you, when you dream…))_

Again, at the memory of his mother, Ryou burst out into tears.

Bakura blinked, his eyes wide. "Ryou?"

What the bloody hell? What was going on? Why was Ryou suddenly crying? Was it something he did? Did he say something crude? What the bloody hell was going on?  
"Ryou…?" Bakura asked tentatively, as though Ryou was an unknown new species that Bakura rather approach with caution. Back when they were still Spirit and Host, Bakura would simply retreat to his soul room whenever Ryou cried, but unfortunately, he wasn't going to be blessed with a coma while he still had a body of his own.

Ryou sobbed hard into his hands. "W-Why Bakura-sama? Why? Why did you show me that? I haven't seen my mother, or even _dreamed _of my mother in _years_, and now, why did you make me remember again? Why? WHY?"

Bakura blinked, and was about to open his mouth to say something, but Ryou cut him off.

"Why? WHY? Why did you show me that? I haven't thought about her in years…in half a decade…in _more…_why? WHY? Why did you show me that? Why did you make me remember my mother!"

"Ryou, idiot, SHUT UP!" Bakura yelled, grabbing Ryou's shoulders. Ryou squeaked with fear and momentarily stopped his tears, staring up into Bakura's red-brown eyes.

For a moment, neither of them spoke a word; merely gazing deep into one another's eyes. Rich, deep chocolate brown glistened with fear as bloody ones stared right back, piercing and strong.

For some strange reason, Ryou felt different about Bakura's gaze. Normally, the thief had a cold, hard one…like pieces of bloodied stone than eyes at all. But now…they looked different…more natural. Despite the reddish tint surrounding the drier brown, Bakura's eyes still looked more human than normal…not as cold, and not as hard.

But just as piercing.

Those eyes…despite their strange appearance seemed to possess the ability to bore through everything and anything. And now, as Ryou stared, unblinking, into his former darker half's eyes, he could almost feel those red-brown eyes pierce his very soul.

Another moment of silence flitted past, before Bakura roughly shoved him away.

"Good. Now let's see if you can hold your tongue for a few minutes," Bakura said irritably, bristling as he sat himself back on the stone wall. After a few moments, Bakura left his gaze and turned away, staring at the black horizon.

Ryou couldn't help but release his leaking tears. He desperately wished for something…anything!…to get Bakura to speak with him. Showing Ryou memories of his own mother was something the white-haired Light found unacceptable without an answer, or a reason. He had almost died when his mother and sister first passed on, brooding over them everyday. He would not let himself be wasted away again…just because of something Bakura needed to say aloud.

"Bakura…please…" Ryou pleaded. His voice was nothing but a desperate whisper. "Bakura…please…talk to me. Why? Why did you show me your village? Why did you show my your mother? Why did you make me remember my own?"

Silence was his only answer, softly accompanied by the faint voice of a mother's whispered melody.

_((Spirits, oh spirits, protect him for me_

_Cries of a child whom you hear…_

_Do you know somewhere he can be free_

_Spirits can you deliver him there? ))_

"Why do you ask?" Bakura snapped. "You're smart. You should figure it out."

"But I don't know what you want me to know!" Ryou cried. "What is it do you want me to do with this? Do you want me to tell someone? Malik? What is it?"

"So go tell Malik, if that's what you think I want you to do," Bakura snapped. "If that's it, then what's keeping you?"

"Because that's what I think _you _want," Ryou said softly. "But that's not what I think you need."

Bakura blinked, and turned round to face the Light.

"What?" he asked in disbelief.

Redirecting his gaze to the sand, Ryou gave a soft sigh. "Bakura….if you want me to tell Malik, then I will. But all you have to do is tell me. You didn't have to show me the entire memory…" At this, Ryou trailed off. "…It hurts," he whispered quietly.

Gathering enough courage, Ryou straightened, looking at Bakura with tear-stained eyes. "Bakura…please…just tell me! You know I can't go through something like this without telling anyone! I just…I just saw her! I just saw her, again, after almost nine years!" Sobs began to choke Ryou's throat as he squeezed his eyes shut and turned away. "It hurts…it hurts so much, Bakura. Gods, do you know how much it hurts? Having everyone torn away from your life, with no one to talk to? It's so…lonely!" Ryou cried. "And I know you know what I mean. I know you can feel what I feel. THAT'S why you showed me, isn't it? That's why, isn't it!"

"Can you, hikari?" Bakura asked suddenly, as he whirled around to face the Light. "Can you? Can you feel the agony? The pain? The desperation, the hope, and the torture of life without your loved ones? Or are you just saying so?"

"Of course I can feel it!" Ryou cried. "Of course I can! Bakura, you should know! I almost _died _when Mother and Amane passed away! Father had almost a breakdown because of me there!"

"And that's why he wanted to relax himself of his stress and went to _Egypt!_" Bakura yelled back sarcastically. "Ryou, you don't know what I feel. You can't. You're too innocent, too naïve. You have no idea what's it like to actually SEE your family, your friends, and your very own MOTHER die to save you! Your mother and Amane didn't die to save you. They died because some damned higher force didn't give a damn, while you lived on free!"

"Do you know how much I suffered thinking that every day?" Ryou cried back. "The guilt of knowing that I'm not there with them, when I equally deserved my fate? You know this, Bakura! I know you do! Mother and Amane hadn't died to save me, but just the same, I should've died with them! Fate had nothing in stored for me! Father left a week after! What was the point of me living if my very own father left my life after my mother and my sister! NONE!"

"But that's only THREE people gone from your life!" Bakura bellowed back. "THREE! Ryou, Kuru Eruna had ONE HUNDRED PEOPLE EXACTLY! Ninety-nine of them were friends and family!"

"But---!"

Suddenly, Ryou was on the ground, trapped conveniently beneath the thief's strong grip. A knee was pressed deeply in Ryou's chest, while the other lay next to Ryou's head. Both of Ryou's arms were in Bakura's tight grip, the golden rings embedding themselves in Ryou's skin.

Leaning forwards, Bakura softly brushed his lips pass Ryou's ear, his breath cold and heartless. Croppy white hair brushed against Ryou's bangs, while soft brown eyes were wide with fear.

"And do you know what else, hikari?" Bakura breathed, his voice bitter and hard. "You weren't there to see Amane and your mother die, were you? You were in school, learning how to put paste on paper, laughing with your friends. You didn't see the car crash, the metal bits flying in the air, or the cracked windshield that scrapped Amane's head. You didn't hear your mother's cry, or Amane's screams, or the sirens that came too late to save them. You didn't SEE the offending car drive off, tires squealing in fear and injustice!"

At this, Bakura withdrew his mouth from Ryou's ear. Instead, he merely stayed as he was, glaring down on Ryou with his soul-piercing gaze. Distinctly, Ryou felt fear rear within him, constricting him of his lungs and his air passageway. With a bitter grimace on his face, Bakura grabbed Ryou's soft throat in his coarse, tanned hands, watching as Ryou's eyes widened and his pupils shrink in fear.

"Hikari…" Bakura hissed. "If there's one thing I know you didn't hear, or see, or FEEL…is that mad, animal rage within my chest, that flame of fire in my eyes, burning with the hatred and loathing of the man who robbed me of everything I held dear. I may have hurt you, hikari. I may have tortured you, hikari. But never once did I take away someone you loved, someone you cared for."

"You took Marik away from me!" Ryou cried, his voice strangled from Bakura's grip.

"I did that for your own good, hikari," Bakura hissed. "Not for selfish needs. I knew he was a Darkness. He was dangerous, cruel, sadistic and evil. If anything, I was protecting you from him! I knew that if you loved someone like him, he'd break your heart into two and leave it for the dogs to devour!"

"But he didn't!" Ryou cried out. "He didn't! He almost risked his life to save me!"

"Key word there is 'almost'," Bakura snarled. "Ryou, I was a Darkness before him. I know what it is like .To have this blackness within you consume your heart, and take over your body. I know it. And I know, that even after Marik realized his love for you…living in the Shadows has changed him, hikari. Deny it as you may, but one day you will come to realize that Marik is nothing but a selfish, greedy bastard who wants only power and dominance…JUST LIKE THE PHARAOH!"

Snarling, Bakura finally released his grip upon Ryou, and stood up harshly. Clutching his chest, Ryou doubled over, coughing a bit in attempt to bring air back into his lungs. His lungs had been feeling strangely weaker than usual lately. Perhaps it was just the fever that still hadn't disappeared.

His thoughts were broken, however, when Bakura gave a bitter laugh.

"Ironic, isn't it?" asked the thief, his voice still hard and cold. "Marik wanted to become pharaoh, didn't he? Hmph." The thief snorted. "Suits him very well. After all, he does have all the characteristics to become king. Heartless, cruel, insatiable and selfish. Nothing can satisfy him. No AMOUNT of anything can satisfy him either. Not gold, not riches, not even lives. Not even if he had ninety-nine of them." At this, Bakura turned his gaze to Ryou, one eye hidden from his sharp bangs. "But two can play at that game, hikari," Bakura breathed. "I will not stop until I have stolen from the pharaoh everything he has stolen from me. His land, his riches, even Egypt's lives…I will take away everything he has…everything he holds dear, just as he did to me!"

Silence slithered between them, broken by Bakura's harsh breathing. Weakly, Ryou stood up, feeling hesitant and a little nervous. Glancing at Bakura, Ryou took a deep breath. The thief…Ryou had never seen Bakura in such a way before. Normally Bakura was simply cold and sarcastic, laughing his cold, mirthless laughter. But now, as Ryou watched Bakura's scowl deepen, and his eyes narrow…Ryou saw something else.

There was no longer cold evil and malice. It was righteous fury, anger, hatred and most of all, injustice. There was that glint in Bakura's eyes that was deep and mournful, sharp and pained. Ryou sighed.

And without further ado, Ryou shut his eyes tight, and wrapped his arms around Bakura's shoulders.

Instantly, Bakura's eyes shot open wide, having never felt his own hikari ever touch him so. In fact, the warm arms that now surrounded him almost scared him…the fact that there were actually arms holding him dearly, holding him close, made Bakura remember someone else who once held him so protectively.

"Don't let go," he heard Ryou whisper.

Blinking, Bakura slowly turned his head towards his duplicate, whose own snowy bangs were now lying upon Bakura's shoulders. Bakura couldn't believe it.

Ryou was hugging him.

Such a simple act caused Bakura's mind to spin out of any rational thoughts. Confusion, shock, anger, and fear merged themselves together in a mind-spinning tornado that sent all logic erratically sprawling out of his reach. How could Ryou be hugging him? After all Bakura had done to him? How could his soft, loving hikari be so forgivable?

Somewhere in his mind, however, Bakura wanted to snort. As he watched Ryou tremble, his large eyes shut tightly to prevent tears of fear or shock…he wanted to turn away, push Ryou away, anything to get Ryou away…but somehow Bakura's heart was beating again, and this time, it was the victor, instead of his pride.

As all his rage then slowly left him, sweeping away from his chest, Bakura took a deep breath.

Distinctly, Ryou's soft arms reminded him of his mother's.

Slowly, very slowly….as every rage, every memory, and every hate slowly ebbed away, Bakura took another deep breath…

…and laid his head on Ryou's shoulder.

Silence fell upon them again, as it had claimed so often before. But somehow, both former Light and Darkness knew that this silence was not to be broken; that it was precious, a golden milestone set in a marble pillar of life. Neither spoke another word, nor expressed themselves of their confusion, but merely stood there in each other's arms, sharing both their pains and their memories that needed to be released.

After a while, Bakura's shoulders gradually grew wet with Ryou's silent tears, but this time, Bakura neither scolded nor snapped at Ryou's show of weakness. He knew how badly Ryou needed to release himself of his torment, of his inner torture that had haunted him for years, with the only one person who knew the exact same emotion.

Noting distantly that there was no one in the middle of night to see them, Bakura took another deep breath, steadied himself, and wrapped his own arms around Ryou's shoulders.

For as Ryou continued to cry, spilling out each of their pains through his tears, Bakura couldn't help but distinctly remember…how when he was merely five years old, crying over the terrors of his massacred village…that at some point, someone had held him. Someone had held him through that night of need, through that night of terror…and Bakura didn't need to remind himself of that night to know that it had been Ryou holding him the way he was holding him now.

* * *

It was the lack of warmth that had awakened him.

Blinking his eyes open, Marik sat up, his eyes immediately narrowing when he found an empty occupant next to him. Eyes still narrowed, he hastily stood up, hoping that Fate had not taken his lover once again.

Despite what anyone else might've said, Marik cared for Ryou very deeply…and after spending months in the Shadows watching Ryou leave him, betray him, hate him…Marik couldn't help but be a little worried and a little possessive whenever Ryou was not by his side.

Instinctively, Marik shuddered.

He would not tell anyone of his times in the Shadows. No. No one could understand the pain he had to live through…and like anyone would be sympathetic anyways. Marik, unable to bear the pain of the Shadow Realm, when he was the master? Not a chance.

And yet, despite Ryou's returning presence, Marik's nights were still haunted by those very same dreams while he had been in the Shadows. Terrible illusions of Ryou…his Ryou…his beautiful, lovely, dashing and radiant Ryou, weakened and beaten and tortured and hurt, with Marik unable to protect him. For months, in his imprisonment within the Shadows, Marik had to suffer watching Ryou die and die again before his eyes, knowing that it was an illusion, something that he could not save from its pain.

Perhaps this was why Marik felt the need to act stronger, bolder, and more evil. Perhaps this was the reason why Marik suddenly felt so vulnerable, so weak, so pathetic, and attempted to make up for his show of weakness by acting overly possessive. Either way, Marik wasn't quite pleased with his return…he had been expecting something else, something different, but all he received was this unearthly feeling that he was not doing something right.

As he shook himself off with such thoughts, he began to rummage about for his clothing. Distinctly, as he pulled on his pants and wound his belt around his waist, he couldn't help but listen to a small, tiny little voice in his head. _Why? _the tiny voice asked. _Why are you so pissed? Ryou's back, you're with him…why aren't you satisfied?_

It was strange. Though Marik _knew _he loved Ryou, though Marik was _certain _that he cared for Ryou and no one else, things didn't seem to be as they were before. Something was off, and Marik wasn't sure what. Vaguely, he thought perhaps that maybe one of them had changed…for he no longer felt the same, human emotions that he first felt when he was with Ryou.

Yet, that voice in his head still chided him that he loved Ryou, that he cared for Ryou. Yes, it was true. But still…something was off…something had changed…and Marik didn't like change one bit.

Was it because Ryou seemed stronger? Never before had Marik witnessed Ryou so bold, so quiet, and so much stronger. The Ryou he knew in Battle City cried at every little thing, and perhaps that was why Marik felt so inclined to protect him. Having Ryou need him gave Marik a meaning in his life…to protect him, to care for him, to love him. If Ryou was stronger and more independent, Marik would then have nothing to part his life with.

Making a face and berating himself for being weak, Marik wrenched the door open of the little shack, and threw it into the wind.

He froze.

For a single moment, his body was immobilized. His blood had stopped cold, and his breath had been cut off. As his eyes widened, his breath slowly returned, becoming deep breaths of self-restraint. His blood gradually found life, and began pumping through his veins at a ferocious level. His eyes immediately narrowed, and a hateful scowl crept across his face.

_Ryou._

_And he was hugging Bakura!_

No. It was not possible. How could Ryou…Ryou of all people…be hugging Bakura, his darker half? The darker half that Marik loathed, that Marik hated, that Marik once banished to the Shadow Realm with the fury of Ra in his hands? How could Ryou…_his _beloved Ryou…manage to find comfort and care in the arms of a demon who had abused him for years uncountable?

_"Bakura-sama has been alright with me, lately…"_

Just how _much _'alright'?

Instant rage swept Marik's chest, as he watched the shadow of the older one wrap his own arms around Ryou's shaking shoulders. Ryou was…crying? He was crying in _Bakura's _arms? How could he? Why had he run to Bakura?

Why hadn't he run to Marik?

At that thought, the rage faltered a little within his chest, filled instead by a pain of rejection.

_Did I lose him?_ Marik thought to himself in anger and horror. _While I was gone…did I lose him?_

How was this possible? How! Must Ra always curse his bloody bloody soul with these terrible images?

_No…_Marik seethed, his anger returning full-throttle. No…perhaps Bakura had forced Ryou into something. Perhaps Bakura had hurt Ryou, and caused him to cry, and was now comforting him in attempts to escape Marik's wrath. Of course. That must've been it.

But slowly, Marik's hope whittled before his eyes. As though Ra truly had cursed his soul, Bakura and Ryou slowly parted, with Ryou wiping at his eyes. The thief slowly raised an eyebrow, looking down upon Ryou with an _almost _concerning gaze. Marik's eyes narrowed even further as he watched Ryou attempt at a shaky smile, before turning his head towards Bakura.

As Marik watched, Ryou's mouth formed the word, 'Thanks', and after a piercing, unrecognizable look from Bakura, both of them exchanged a couple of words. At this, Marik's scowl turned darker, filled with hatred as he watched Bakura take something from his pocket, and place it in Ryou's hand.

_Get your dirty hands off him! _Marik almost roared.

But Ryou neither looked shocked, or terrified. If anything, he looked surprised, and after he opened his hand to see whatever it was inside, his face lit up with a happy, tearful grin, and his arms immediately wrapped around Bakura's neck once more. The thief's eyes almost bugged out from shock, and distinctly, Marik saw a blush creep across Bakura's nose.

Oh gods…

Ryou was hugging Bakura on his own will. Ryou was embracing the one man that Marik hated, that Ryou once did as well. Ryou had found comfort and concern from the man that had abused him so terribly, the very same person that Marik had vowed to kill.

_On his own will._

Even though that voice in his head was frantically chiding him for it, Marik's small heart burst, leaving the tatters upon the darkness of his soul.

Ryou had betrayed him.

Seething, Marik turned away, unable to watch the disgusting scene before him any longer. He would not break their embrace up now….no…of course not. No. He would confront Ryou about it sooner or later, and until then, Marik would continue watching them, making sure that Ryou had not found someone else.

And yet, that same voice in his head pleaded him to stop, begged him to think rationally…but Marik was too consumed in darkness to think rationally any longer. He had stayed in the Shadows far too long, that he almost felt as though he was part of them…one with them. He had grown powerful with the Shadows, their dark tendrils of blackness at his dispense.

As the darkness began to consume his heart, the clouds wreathed the moon.

* * *

As Bakura watched Ryou return to the little shack, smiling tearfully as he cradled the little doll of Amane in his hand, the thief couldn't help but wince.

Out of the corner of his eye, while he and Ryou had conversed more about their families, and their friends, Bakura had indeed noticed the tall, manly figure of Marik by the little shack. Even as he gave Ryou the doll of Amane (which he had made long ago), Bakura couldn't help but feel uneasy as he watched those cold, amethyst eyes bore hatred into his own.

Bakura knew what went on in the Shadows, and he knew that Marik was more evil than he was, and more prone to be filled with darkness. Bakura had to spend three thousand years in darkness to become what he was…Marik had been a Darkness since he as born.

If worse came to worse, Bakura would have some explaining to do. He didn't want Ryou to be hurt, and ever since Ryou had gotten together with the other Darkness, Bakura hadn't trust Marik since. Oh well. He'd cross that bridge when he came to it…somehow.

As he watched the oblivious Ryou enter the little shack again, Bakura had to fight hard to suppress a wince.

Marik had seen them together.


	9. The Best Thief

EEWWW. I hated this chapter! I hate the fact that exams are coming, and the fact that this had no Marik x Ryou! (makes a face) Some Marik x Ryou tomorrow, and realsweet Malik x Bakura fluff. I'm still at a bit of a loss as to the Marikx Ryou bit, but I'm thinking of something...something small, but somethign all the same. After all, we all know that Marik's just a liiitttle pissed right now, so most of whatever lime is coming up between him and Ryou is a liiitttle "forced". Of course, Ryou will get a whiff of this soon enough...(cough)

See? I told you that if this was a big Bakura x Malik story, Marik would be made the villain. But we all know who's the TRUE supreme evil force, don't we? (cough) Dark Magic RPG (cough) Yami Bakura (cough) Not Thief Bakura, the sweetheart (cough).

Entirely Bakurax Malik chapter. I would've done better if I hadn't just had my math final. I kept on thinking things like, "Malik couldn't figure out the problems of his heart because the authoress couldn't even figure out what six to the power of three minus six to the power of negative one times three is."

So anyways, chapter nine. To make up for oncoming MarikxRyou agnst, we have sweet MalikxBakura fluff!

* * *

Chapter Nine: The Best Thief

Making a face, Malik trudged along the snow of gold, kicking every so often at the hard flakes of sand. It was strange, acting like such a child again. He had been doing that so much recently. He was no longer "Malik, the King", or more accurately, "Malik, the Wanna-be King"…but now he was just…Malik. Little, childish Malik that made flower necklaces out of fun for his siblings.

Pouting, Malik then stabbed his foot forwards, striking a rather impeded rock from the ground sprawling into the air. It landed with a soft and dull _thud _and then laid still in the darkness.

Above him, the moon shined brightly, its full sphere illuminating the darkness that the Egyptian dunes were now surrounded in. Pale, silvery moonlight glistened against the gold, glinting them to the point of being a land of bronze to golden karats.

Sighing again, Malik plopped himself on a nearby rock, his eyes trailing about aimlessly and with boredom. Ever since Bakura had left him, he had nothing to do but mop. At least with Ryou around, he got to tickle the other Light, and tease him to no end (which was something Malik quite liked in doing), but now with Marik back and obviously involving Ryou in rather mature activities, Malik had nothing to do but brood.

After his futile attempts to sleep, Malik had decided to take a nightly stroll. He liked the night as much as the liked the day; anything outside confining walls and stone chambers was good enough for him_. In fact_, he thought, as he pulled his legs to his chest and letting his gaze fall upon some nearby pyramids, _let's just sleep out here tonight._

A good half a kilometer away stood a large, unfinished pyramid, its crumbling edges ominous in the moonlight. Though to any other bystander it looked almost foreboding, to Malik it was nothing, and after wondering which pharaoh's riches and chambers he'd sleep in tonight, he smiled brightly.

Plus, the added look of morning slaves working and escaping the palace guards would be equally fun too.

Oh, Malik loved being mischievous. It was all he could be if he couldn't be evil.

Grinning and releasing a deep breath, Malik landed on his feet against the dusty limestone, the rock making a soft thump as he made his descend. He had managed to find an unfinished part of the wall on the south side, and had managed to jump in. The northern side of the pyramid had already been finished…all that was left was to cover the large entrance that Malik had gotten into, and a new tomb would be ready for the next dying king.

Sighing with content, Malik stretched himself slightly, arching his back and stretching his abdominal muscles. After shaking his head from side to side in attempts to see where he was, he smirked lightly and promptly began walking down a hallway at random.

After he had gone down the same hallway for quite some time, Malik decided to light a match, and after finding an old, broken stick that was once a makeshift shovel, Malik lit it on fire, and held his new torch high above his head.

_Clink._

Blinking and eyes widening, Malik took a step forwards, his gaze narrowing as he brandished his torch before him. He was no coward. Whoever was inside the tomb now must've been a tomb robber of sorts…if that was the case, Malik was interested. He hadn't met a real tomb robber before…at least, none that he knew.

_Think Bakura was one though, at some point…_Malik though to himself curiously as he stepped forwards boldly. _Ha, _he snorted. _Even if he is…it won't make that much of a difference. He won't ever see me again anyways, so why even hope?_

"Who's there?" he called coldly.

* * *

_Bloody curse it!_ Bakura swore under his breath.

Great. The great Thief King Tomb Robber Bakura-sama, most feared bandit in all of Egypt, had managed to get sighted. And not just sighted by anyone.

Malik.

Cursing under his breath again, Bakura slid down the wall, making no move to escape, no matter how much his instincts screamed at him to. His heart had won over again.

_First Ryou, now you?_ Bakura seethed. _Gods damn it. What is it with you Lights and your abilities to find out pity cases of massacred villages?_

* * *

As he approached down the hallway, hearing nothing but silence, the glow of his torch slowly began to expand, spreading its dull hue against the walls. After a few more steps, the light of his torch gradually illuminated something else…the tiniest of flashes caught Malik's eye, and after kneeling down to the floor, he saw a string of jewelry, lying lonesome upon the stone.

It was quite a pretty necklace. Its chain was a delicate gold, from which hung an oval-incased pure amethyst jewel. As Malik reached out towards it, he noticed elegant, expensive and intricate designs that had been carved upon the side of the oval encasement, its swirling whorls and delicate vines slithering against the glow if his torch.

However, as his fingers managed to brush against the chain, a strong had suddenly shot out form the darkness, gripping his wrist in a distinctly familiar tight grip.

"What the-?" Malik started, but was cut off abruptly when a hissing voice came from the darkness.

"Pardon me, but I don't think this is yours."

The Egyptian words sounded strange, but Malik had no time to ponder about them. For as quick as a serpent's instinct, the hand had grasped the jewel, jerked it from his hand, and vanished into the darkness.

Stumbling to his feet, Malik brandished the torch out in front of him, yelling, "STOP!"

But to no avail.

For even though it had been mere seconds since that touch had disappeared, there was nothing before him, and no sound echoed in his ears. It was almost as though nothing had happened, and it almost made Malik doubt himself about the mysterious jewel and thief.

But…no. Not quite.

For that touch…even though it had been coarse and wider…that touch had been familiar. That hiss of a voice, though speaking fluent Egyptian words, had a strange accent to it…almost…

…strangely enough, Malik had thought the strange accent to be _British._

Malik made a face, to no one in particular.

There was only one "English" thief that he knew, and it sure as heck wasn't Ryou.

* * *

Sighing forlornly, Bakura rested his back against the slope of the pyramid, the large sack of treasures next to him and his _shorah_ keeping him nice and cool.

After his conversation with Ryou, Bakura had decided to do something to get himself back into character. He had _hugged _Ryou…if anyone in Egypt had heard of such a thing, they'd second-guess him the next time he would strike. And Bakura hated a tarnished reputation.

And plus…no matter how hard Bakura attempted to shake it off…no matter how hard Bakura snorted and no matter how strong Bakura was…the memory of those hard, cold, amethyst eyes haunted him, like a tagging ghost at the back of his head. It was not that he was _afraid _of Marik…hardly!…but all the same, those cold, hard amethyst eyes had a spark of fire within them, something so icy and so fiery at the same time, it was inhumane. And it made Bakura wince.

_Weakling,_ he thought to himself. _First Malik, now Marik…dammit, Ishtals have the weirdest eyes…_

Thinking about Marik's eyes distinctly brought Bakura's thought track back to Malik…something that the thief wasn't sure was a good or bad thing.

From cold, icy fire amethyst to childish happy ones, Bakura's mind began to drift back to Malik once more, thinking about how large Malik's eyes were, and how gorgeous they were. How they'd sparkle at the sight and widen with curiosity. How they'd bat and wink and harden and narrow…everything.

Thinking about Malik's eyes slowly then led Bakura to thinking about Malik's other features…again. His light caramel skin, his unblemished features…down to those pretty abs and adorable kohl lines.

Yes, Bakura missed Malik. A lot. And yes, Bakura did not wish to see Malik, because he knew it would just hurt him again, just like it did when Kuru Eruna burned to the ground.

Suddenly, a thump jostled him out of his thoughts, and instantly, he jumped to his feet. Eyes narrowing, they darted from side to side for the intruder, his ears prickling at the origin of the sound. Hiding a smirk, Bakura slid away quietly, hiding behind a nearby round boulder, waiting patiently for whatever that had just awakened his senses.

With a grunt, a shadow came climbing over the unfinished part of the pyramid, before sliding down the slope of sand. The shadow then landed on his feet, brushing his arms of dust and grime. Bakura smirked as he watched the shadow stop to stare at the bag of treasure Bakura had left.

_And the predator will pounce…_

He jumped.

_Now._

"Ungh!" Malik grunted, as something hard and heavy collided into him. Coarse hands gripped his wrists tightly within their grasp, and a well-built chest was crushing his into the wall.

Grunting and wiggling, Malik fought his best against his attacker, snarling and spitting as the shadow increased his hold.

"RELEASE ME I COMMAND YOU!" he demanded.

Suddenly, as though hearing his voice had terrified him, the thief froze. Glaring, Malik opened his eyes, before they widened with shock.

Brown bloodied eyes stared back, shielded by sharp, white bangs. Though hidden beneath the hood of his cloak, Malik could see white hair upon the shoulders, silvery in the moonlight. A pale scar trickled down one eye.

Malik's eyes widened even larger than before, and slowly, he felt his defenses cracking and splintering, before finally collapsing into a heap of dust at the bottom of his heart.

"Ba…Bakura?"

Each of them blinked, and Malik didn't have to question the silence to know that indeed, it was Bakura standing before him. Bakura. His former love.

Bakura was finally with him!

Suddenly, as though abruptly sparked with energy, Bakura quickly jumped away. Instantly Malik did so as well, waving his hands and hiding them behind his back, as though brunt.

"Uhh…"

The thief quickly looked away, his eyes hidden beneath his hood. Golden strands of jewels tinkled lightly as Bakura turned away, skimming his shoulders and draping towards the floor. Malik bit his lip.

Was this…was this really Bakura? The tall, strong silhouette before him? As much as Malik hated to admit it, he couldn't help but think Bakura for being hot again.

_Stop it! _he berated himself. _He hates you. He obviously does. He's not even looking at you. Don't listen to him._

But Malik's heart wouldn't listen.

"Ha..ahh…" Malik finally stuttered out, as he watched Bakura with large eyes. Uneasiness settled within Malik's heart, and he shifted awkwardly on his feet, looking away. "Ahh…h-hi…Bakura…"

"Hello, Malik…" came Bakura's voice, soft and quiet. Malik blinked. It was quite unlike the first them they had met. When they had first met acquaintance, Bakura had managed to dart right in front of Malik's motorbike, and had demanded for the Sennen Rod. Now, the thief stood before him, looking away and silent. But who cared? Bakura was talking to him!

"Ah-aaah…" was all Malik could stutter, at a loss as to what to say. After all, Bakura had been ignoring him since they had broken up…for the very first time, the thief was talking to him, and not disappearing into nothingness. He looked away again, shifting on his feet, lowering his eyes to the ground. "H-hello…Bakura."

An awkward silence fell upon them. The air felt thick and heavy, lingering above and between them, like a dusty curtain sheathing their hearts. Distinctly biting his lip, Bakura straightened, and his eyes darted about, as though trying to find an escape route. It was when he realized there was nothing he could do, lest hurting Malik's feelings, when he noticed Malik's face.

Oh Ra, did that boy change at all? Though Bakura had always looked away from Malik's presence since they broke up, he hadn't forgotten just how gorgeous Malik was. And now, looking at him once again, Bakura distinctly felt a pang of guilt stab his heart. Though he was determined not to show it, he couldn't help but notice how crestfallen Malik looked, looking away, his gorgeous lavender eyes shifted to the floor. How sad did he look…

Swallowing, Malik lowered his eyes even lower, almost shutting them as he tried his best to shrug casually. "A-Are we…are we supposed to even be…talking to each other?" he murmured quietly. "Or…do you have something you need to go do?"

Bakura couldn't help but make a face at Malik's wavering voice. Acting just as casual as Malik was, he also turned away, the bag of treasures clinking quietly.

"No…not really," Bakura murmured, equally quietly. "Just…stealing. There's nothing really I need to go do tonight anymore…you?"

Hastily, Malik shook his head, his eyes still averted. "No…no, not at all."

Bakura nodded. "Oh…I…see."

Another awkward silence fell upon them, and neither of them was very comfortable at all. Finally, Bakura decided to break the silence. Glancing towards the heavens, he focused hard on one of the stars, to prevent himself from looking at Malik.

"So…uh…what are you doing out here, anyways? At this time of night?"

Malik blinked, but he still wouldn't look at Bakura. It hurt too much, at any rate. "Oh…nothing," he said softly. His heart sped up a little bit, but his mind forced it to suppress. Bakura was talking to him again! "Nothing. I think Marik took Ryou somewhere, but I'm not sure. I've just went into the pyramid over there…and…yeah."

Bakura nodded. "I see," he said, rather lamely.

Another silence. This time, Bakura let out a rapid string of Egyptian curses in his head, as to block out the deafening silence between him and his former lover. He was about to change to more colorful Japanese words when Malik's voice drifted to his ears.

"What about you? Stealing again?"

Before he could hold himself back, Bakura instantly snorted.

_Okay…why the hell did I just do that?_

"Of course," Bakura said, in a rather void voice. "What else would I be doing?"

Malik shrugged. "I don't know…" he said, so softly that Bakura almost tore from his view of the stars to hear him.

Silence. This time, Bakura decided to entertain himself by counting the stars. Sixteen stars were counted before Bakura heard Malik's soft voice again.

"…So uh…did you…did you get anything good?" he asked.

"Huh? Oh yeah…" Bakura said distractedly. "Loads."

Eighteen stars.

"Oh…wow…umn…I see," Malik nodded. "You got a…you got a really big bag there. What's in it?"

"Stolen goods."

Seventeen stars.

"Oh…I see…umn…like, what stolen goods?"

Bakura shrugged. "Jewelry from the temples and tombs," he said casually.

Malik's eyes widened, and he turned around to face the thief. "You're kidding."

Bakura shook his head. Malik blinked, before he clasped his hand over his mouth.

"But that's…that's….you'll be impaled if they catch you!"

"No one catches me," Bakura replied off-handedly. "Please. You think I don't know what happens to me if I get caught? Hell, that's my motivation to run if I have to."

Distinctly, Malik felt his lips twitch into a smile. He was about to nod when a flash of light caught his eyes…blinking curiously, he stepped forwards toward the thief.

The flash of glittered shined again, and this time, Malik noticed a small strand of gold hanging off Bakura's waistband. From hung on a delicate golden chain, was a small, diamond-cut gem, outlined with a golden base. The gem itself was a gorgeous amethyst, ranging in shades. The bottom was a deep, crystalline purple, whilst the middle a lavender, and the top, a very faint mauve. Smaller beads of purple dotted the top and bottom, where the angles of the golden base were connecting.

"Oh wow…" he breathed. And forgetting about Bakura entirely, he reached out towards the necklace, inadvertently brushing his fingers along the skin of Bakura's waist.

He had forgotten Bakura was not wearing anything on top, beneath the robe.

Yelping and tearing his eyes away from the stars, Bakura jumped back. Malik's eyes had widened and what he had done, and instantly, he jerked back and looked away.

If Bakura had still been counting stars, he would've lost count at how many he had counted for this period of silence. Fifty-six, he'd reckoned.

"Ah…um…" Noticeably, Bakurafelt his cheeks flush slightly. Wait…what the hell? He never had blushed in the future, so why was he blushing now? "Umn…was there…was there something you liked?"

"Oh! Umn….no…not really," Malik stuttered. "Umn..it's just that..I found something really nice, and I …wanted to take a look at it…" Gritting his teeth nervously, Malik turned around, facing his back towards Bakura. Hastily he found himself the jackhammer nearby, it's long stick and heavy stone edge lying by a ball-like boulder, to amuse himself with, and found much interest within it. Anything to stop looking at Bakura.

….

NINETEEN STARS!

"Ohh.. um…" Bakura stuttered. "Which one? What're you looking at?"

Malik jumped. "The..the..jackhammer," he stuttered, staring at the old, beaten hammer with interest. Vaguely, he wondered whether Bakura had seen it or not…it was resting beside the pyramid in the shadows, after all. If that's the case, then Bakura probably would've thought him an idiot.

But that was not _quite _the thief's reaction.

Bakura's eyes widened instantly, and his cheeks flushed. "T-The WHAT?"

Poor Malik had not known that what Bakura meant was, 'What _were_ you looking at?' and instead, had translated it to, 'What _are _you looking at?'

And poor Bakura, had translated 'jackhammer' to…well…'jackhammer.'

And damn his body for betraying him. Without tearing his shocked look from Malik, his hand drifted down to his waist, and automatically smacked the persistent, hard, hot bulge beneath his sarong.

_DOWN boy!_

"T-The…the…WHAT?" Bakura repeated again.

"The jackhammer," Malik replied instantly, trying his best to maintain cool. "You now…the one by…the…you know…the rock…the rock that's shaped like a ball, you know…over there…" he rambled, feeling his cheeks grow hot. "You know…over there…" Malik pointed. Though he wasn't sure if Bakura could see it, there was indeed a large boulder, shaped like a ball that was a few feet away from the jackhammer.

Well, hell, Bakura's jackhammer and balls were rock hard now.

He smacked himself again, and had to bite his lip to restrain the whine of pain he longed to emit. Stupid…stupid…hormones!

_Down boy!_ he thought madly to himself. _Down! Down!_

SMACK.

Ooh, that was a little too hard.

Hearing the sharp sound, Malik quickly turned around, and saw Bakura's flushed face and bent knees. Frowning with worry, he was about to run to Bakura, when the thief straightened and looked away.

"Oh, Ra, Bakura…what's wrong?" Malik asked.

"N-Nothing…" Bakura replied, his voice shaking madly. Malik's expression scrunched up with worry and fret, and hesitantly, he reached out towards Bakura's locks.

"You sure…?" Malik asked. "You're really warm…do you have a fever?"

"N-No…" Bakura shook his head. "It's just…that…" Taking a deep breath, he looked back over to Malik, and forced himself to look straight into Malik's eyes.

Oh Ra….how beautiful they were…just like that amethyst necklace he had stolen from the tomb…

"W-Were you…were you really looking at my jackhammer?" Bakura asked, cursing at himself for his flushed cheeks.

Confused silence followed, but to Bakura, it was an eternity.

….

Oh Ra.

TWENTY-TWO BLOODY STARS!

"Y-Your…._your _jackhammer?" Malik repeated, looking wide-eyed and frightened. "Yours? What do you…"

It was then did Malik notice something prodding him against his waist.

Eyes widening drastically, both of them averted their eyes downwards, staring at the straining, hard bulge that had begun to prod into Malik's stomach on its own accord. Instantly, both leaped away from each other, as though burned, which was how hot Bakura's arousal was currently feeling.

"Oh!" Malik exclaimed, swallowing as the stared at Bakura's sarong. "Oh! Um…no! Of course not!" Quickly, Malik turned away, but distinctly found that his _own _arousal was growing too.

"You…you weren't?" Bakura asked, sounding quite relieved. "You really weren't?"

"Well…of course not!" Malik said, blushing furiously and laughing a shaky laugh. "I mean…why would I? I mean, we're not together, so which means that I can't, no wait, it means I shouldn't, because we're not together, and since we're not together…"

"Malik, you're rambling," Bakura said, his eyes looking somewhat worried. Malik stopped abruptly in his cascade of words.

"Oh…UM!" was all he could say, as he bit his lip. "Well…if I'm bothering you with that, I could just shut up, you know…" he said hurriedly, smiling nervously. "I mean, after all, who'd want to hang out with someone like me, you know? I mean, Ryou's got Marik, and Marik's got Ryou, Isis is not here, Rishid is chasing after her, yeah, well, sure, I understand. No one wants to be with me. I get it." Nodding decisively, Malik turned around, taking a deep breath and exhaling loudly. What was the matter with him? Why couldn't he speak? Why couldn't he say something that would at least grant him some _dignity? _"No one wants to be with me…" he said quietly.

There was a soft silence between them, one that this time, neither of them bothered to use to count stars. The wind was the only sound between them, whistling softly its mournful tune, caressing and swirling around them, in sad attempt to bring them closer together.

_He's still really pretty…_Bakura thought to himself, as he watched Malik bow his head forlornly towards the sand. _Just like he was when we played in Kuru Eruna, and just like when we talked during Battle City. He's still really pretty. _

_…_

_"No, Bakura, please, I don't want to!"_

_"For me, please, Bakura?"_

_"It's so wonderful…for you to be here with me…next to me…it almost makes me wish to stay like this forever…"_

_"I love you, Baku…"_

"Well…" Bakura said softly, looking at the ground. "I guess…I still do…if…well…" He took a deep breath. "Well…if you're not doing anything," Bakura said hesitantly. "You know…in the near future…maybe…we can get together some time? I wouldn't…mind…being with you…again."

Blinking, Malik turned around hesitantly, as though unsure at what he heard.

"Wha…what?" he whispered.

Clearing his throat, Bakura took a step forward. He wasn't exactly sure what was driving him to do so, but strangely, something told him it was right. Something made his heart swell again, made his heart beat again. After all, it was Malik. Sexy, cute, adorable, mischievous Malik.

Hard to ignore.

"Well…umn…" Bakura started softly. "If…you aren't doing anything tomorrow, or something…maybe…maybe we can get together, or something, you know? I could…pick you up by the pyramid here, at around sunset-ish…and maybe…we can just…walk? Talk? Just…be…together?"

Blinking again, Malik slowly turned around, his large lavender eyes slowly filling up with hope and apprehensive longing. Bakura cleared his throat again, looking deep into those lavender eyes, those same, beautiful lavender eyes that had always captivated him so.

"So do you…do you want to?" he asked, almost weakly.

Malik slowly cocked his head to the side. "You…mean it?" he whispered, as though almost hardly daring to believe it. "You'd…really want to spend…some time with me again?"

Bakura nodded, cracking a small, cheeky smile.

"Sure. That is…if you want to."

Slowly, Malik's lips gradually formed into a smile. Though small and hesitant, it was a smile none-of-the-less, and it made Bakura's heart soar and beat like mad.

"I'd…I'd like that," Malik breathed, his smile now forming into a grin. "Yes," he said, more firmly, but just as soft as before. "Yes. I'd like that."

Breaking out into a grin himself, Bakura nodded. "Then that's…that's great, then," he said. "I guess I'll pick you up here tomorrow then? At sunset?"

Malik nodded, still grinning. "I'll be there."

Nodding his head again, Bakura took a step forwards, staring deep into Malik's eyes again.

"You know…it's almost sunrise," he said softly. "You should go back soon. I need to go too. Once the sun rises, I'll be far easier to catch. But I promise I'll be here at sunset."

Though he was disappointed, Malik nodded understandingly. "Sure. I know. I should be getting back too. Ryou might get upset."

Bakura coughed, clearing his throat at the mention of Ryou. Smirking, he looked back into Malik's eyes again, and his smirk widened.

"Well? Do I at least get a hug?"

Laughing, Malik threw himself at Bakura, feeling the thief wrap his arms around Malik's waist. As Malik softly nuzzled the thief's neck and cuddled close, he whispered, "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Bakura whispered back.

Slowly, they parted, each of them smiling at each other. With a wave, Bakura quickly motioned to the slow break of gold against the horizon, and Malik nodded. Both of them then turned away from one another, and started on their way home. Malik was literally skipping when he reached the cellar way to the Keeper's labyrinth, his heart alight and his chest all swelled.

He was on a date with Bakura again!

As Malik turned back on last time, before slipping into the cellar steps, something clinked lightly in his pocket. Blinking, he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out the mysterious object, and gasped when he saw it in his hand.

The amethyst necklace.

After staring at it for a while, a grin slowly broke out upon Malik's face. He turned his face back to the direction of the unfinished pyramid, and, as the morning sun finally began to rise, couldn't help but think that Bakura was truly a great thief.

* * *

Okay, so it was not THAT bad. I still think it was poorly written, but the situations were adorable. Hee hee, "jackhammer".

I love writing Thief Bakura. He's just so...cheeky like. Actually, his attitude is quite a lot like Marik's...especially in the manga. Yami Bakura's just deranged. Thief Bakura is sweet, cheeky, blunt and bitter. Granted, I do believe Marik's more a romantic (comes with him being a perv), but I love imagining a love-clueless Thief Bakura. He's just so adorable. (Luvs Thief Bakura.) A bit of both worlds! He's got Yami Marik's build, a bit of Yami Bakura's wit, but most of all, he's got the sweetest, angstiest backround that makes the fangirls so SWWOON and AWW.

I love angsty guys. That's why I love Ryou.

And yes, Yami Bakura does come back eventually in this fic. Gee, I make them sound like they're two different people...


	10. Something You Can Ask For

Chapter Ten: Something You Can Ask For

"I made these for you," Ryou said shyly, as he raised his cupped hands towards Marik. "A long time ago. They were going to be your present when you…you know…gave me that wonderful day on the blimp…but I sort of changed my mind, last minute." He giggled shyly.

In his hands were two miniatures that he had made when he and Marik had spent time together on the Battle City blimp. They were quite realistic, though their attire was slightly different. The miniature Marik was wearing a suit of armor that Ryou had painted black and gold, complete with sword and shield, while the miniature Ryou was draped in a white magician robe, which he had sewn himself.

It was now late morn, with Ryou waking up alone but soon finding Marik rummaging amongst the things in his room. Giggling with the excitement of a child, Ryou had run back to find his jacket, where he had saved these two miniatures as souvenirs.

Now he was finally presenting his proud work to Marik, whom Ryou would love for to accept them as a present. He had spent endless hours completing everything to the final detail, including the ruby stubs in the hilt of the sword and the little golden ropes on the magician's robes.

Raising an eyebrow, Marik regarded the little miniatures critically. One part of him was still upset at seeing Ryou and Bakura together, but that same, soft voice in his mind brightened at the miniature figures. Did Ryou truly consider him as his knight in shining armor?

"That's cute," Marik said, smirking as he took them into his own hand. "Wow…you made these yourself?"

Still smiling happily, and blushing, Ryou nodded. "It's a hobby of mine. I love making dolls like these. Do you like them?"

Finally, that soft little voice won over, and Marik nodded, wrapping one arm around Ryou's shoulders. "Yes, my little thief," Marik laughed, kissing Ryou on the cheek. "Yes, I like them." He licked Ryou's throat. "Did you like what happened last night?" Marik asked mischievously.

Ryou giggled, his face turning a darker shade of red. "Of course," he laughed, wrapping his own arms around Marik's waist. "You're amazing…" he breathed.

Marik smirked. "I know." His hands slithered down Ryou's spine, delighting in the shiver at his response. "I see someone still interested…" Marik teased.

Even though he was already gripping Marik tightly andarching is back, Ryou shook his head. "Noo…" he moaned. "Noo I'm noootttt…"

"Liar," Marik smirked again. "You want some, don't you? And you want them bad."

"I do not!" Ryou said back indignantly. However, he couldn't help but shiver again when Marik quietly slid behind him, his hands encircling Ryou's waist and massaging downwards. "MMMaaaarriiikkk…" Ryou whined.

"You do want some, don't you?" Marik laughed, as he put the miniatures on the bedside table and continued to massage Ryou's hips and navel. "You're so insatiable."

"_You're _insatiable," Ryou moaned, his hips bucking forwards when Marik's fingers had flicked lightly over his arousal. "MAARRIK! Stop it!" Ryou whined.

"So…?" Marik asked, as he wormed one knee between Ryou's thighs. "What do I need to do to satisfy my little thief's desire for more? Should I tease you? Play with you? Make you plead? Or punish you?"

"Punish me?" Ryou moaned back incredulously. "What did I do?"

Snickering, Marik suddenly drove his knee upwards, suspending Ryou in the air and feeling something hot against his thigh.

"For driving me insane with passion," Marik whispered back. His fingers flicked down Ryou's arousal once more to make his point, causing Ryou to arch and moan loudly. "Ready?"

Swallowing, Ryou sighed, and finally nodded.

"Oh fine."

Smirking, Marik quickly captured Ryou's lips. Giggling, Ryou timidly returned the kiss, his own tongue shyly curling against Marik's demanding one.

"In..satiable..." Ryou mumbled.

* * *

Uncountable moments later, each of them laid on Marik's bed, their legs intertwined in ways unimaginable. Despite the fact that they had finished, Ryou was still shivering from his onslaught of passion just seconds before, shuddering as Marik tightened his grasp around Ryou's waist.

"Y-you know…" Ryou gasped, his fingers twitching still. "To a certain point, you could've been a little gentler."

"I'm not gentle, you know that," Marik said, nuzzling Ryou's throat. "We'll clean up the blood later. Did you like it though?"

Ryou sighed, though he nuzzled Marik's chest anyway. "To a certain point, yes," he said softly, dreamily. "But I don't like being tied up very much. Making love is supposed to be a time of passion, between both of us. _You _were the one doing most of the work."

"Aw, does little Ryou want to be strong and dominant?" Marik teased, kissing Ryou on the lips. Sighing and giggling into the kiss, Ryou returned it back, though to Marik's disappointment, did not allow his tongue to join in.

"You're so weird," Ryou giggled. "How long have we spent time like this?"

"I reckon it's sunset now," Marik said offhandedly. "Why? Think we have more time?"

"Marik!" Ryou scolded, but was silenced when Marik slithered on top of him, crushing their lips together and feeling his skin. "Mmnpph….insati…mphh…able…"

"That's me," Marik breathed, slowly breaking the kiss and looking deep into Ryou's eyes. "Hmn...by the gods you're beautiful, Ryou…" he whispered.

Laughing and blushing, Ryou wound his arms around Marik's neck, and perkily kissed Marik on the nose.

"I love you too."

* * *

_"The wind was a torrent of darkness, among the gusty trees…"_ Malik sang, as he sat upon the ball-boulder rock next to the pyramid. _"The moon was a ghostly galleon, tossed upon the cloudy seas…"_

He had been sitting there since the sun had started to set, awaiting for his own highwayman to pick him up. Screw Ryou for teaching him British artists while they were together; now Malik couldn't help but sing old folklore songs.

_"The road was a ribbon of moonlight, o'er the purple moor…"_

Suddenly, soft clip-clopping noises rode up to him from behind, and without further warning, another soft voice joined his, though the voice was lined with mischievous and cheeky snickers.

_"And the highwayman came riding…riding…riding,"_ Bakura laughed, as Malik turned around. Large, beautiful lavender eyes immediately brightened, twinkling brighter than the dying sun. Breaking out into a grin, both he and Malik finished the last line together, their voices intertwined in a soft, and pretty duet.

_"The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door…"_

Laughing, Bakura directed his black spur around the rock, jewels clinking melodiously in tune with the horse's hoofs. Cocking an eyebrow, Bakura glanced down at Malik, a smirk on his face.

"So. Am I your highwayman, I hope?"

Malik laughed as he stood up. "Of course," he said, charismatically wiggling his own eyebrows. "Whom else would I be referring to? I have the greatest highwayman Egypt, Japan and Britain has ever seen."

Chuckling, Bakura reached out his hand. "You look lovely today," he complimented.

Laughing modestly, Malik took the hand. He was wearing nothing but a simple, plain sarong, embroidered with lavender flowers that he had had the servants do, and around his throat was the necklace that he had embarrassed Bakura with last night. In his opinion, however, the bandit king was by far more handsome, wearing his trademark red robe and a deep blue sarong, golden strings of jewels draping everywhere. Upon his feet were soft and expensively made slippers, embroidered with gold, no doubt stolen.

_"He'd a 'gyptian hood on his forehead, a bunch of gold at his chin," _Malik sang teasingly, as Bakura helped him up on the horse and settled the Light in front of him. Bakura smirked and wrapped his arms around Malik's waist, picking up the reins. _"A robe of claret velvet, and skirt of peacock skin…"_

_"They fitted with never a wrinkle,"_ Bakura continued, snapping the reigns against the horse. _"His skirt showed most of his thigh…"_ At this, he winked at Malik, and Malik laughed.

_"And he rode with a jeweled twinkle,"_ Malik sang fondly, as the gold draped upon Bakura indeed, twinkled quite nicely in the dying sun, "_his deep brown eyes a-twinkle…"_

_"Hisstolen-goods a-twinkle, under the jeweled sky…"_ Bakura finished. He snickered. "You made me sound so noble and knightly."

"Maybe you are," Malik teased, prodding Bakura's chest. "At least, in my mind you are."

Bakura snickered again. "You've been hanging out with Ryou too long. His mother used to tell him that poem and sing to him all night with it. Cried every time at the ending."

"It _is_ a sad poem," Malik agreed. "So. Where are we going?"

"I dunno," Bakura replied, as the horse picked up speed. "Where do you want to go?"

Smiling, Malik turned around a bit, glancing at Bakura, who had a curious glint in his eyes. "Anywhere," Malik said, grinning. "Just as long as I get to be with you."

The thief chuckled and snapped the reins again. "In that case, then," he said, "I may as well bring you somewhere I like. There's this nice hill nearby, oasis and all. If you sit at the very top, you can see all the pyramids, and count the stars. It's quite pretty."

Malik arched an eyebrow teasingly. "_You_ like pretty things?"

Bakura returned the gaze evenly. "I like _you,_" he said, sounding innocent.

Blushing, Malik giggled, happy that things were finally getting better between him and Bakura. "Oh?"

"Yes," Bakura replied, looking at the sky with a glint in his eyes. "Of course. After all, I steal pretty things, don't I? In fact, do you know what your eyes remind me of?"

"What?" Malik asked, intrigued. Bakura had never been this sappy before.

A smirk crawled onto the thief's face. "Amethyst jewels," was the reply. "In fact, a _certain _amethyst jewel…" A hand then trailed up from the reins of the horse and clasped onto the amethyst necklace upon Malik's throat. Bakura leaned in, his lips at Malik's ear. "Do you like it?" he asked softly.

Smiling fondly, Malik nodded. "Yes," he whispered. "Thank you."

A soft chuckle was heard. "You look lovely in it," Bakura whispered quietly. "They bring out your eyes. I'll never know if your eyes are real or whether they truly are amethyst jewels."

"They're not," Malik giggled softly. "But you are."

* * *

Yawning, Ryou opened his eyes, wincing at his sore wrists. Above him, Marik slept, his face content in slumber, the glowing Eye upon his forehead glowing faintly in the darkness, serene and calming. Sighing dreamily, Ryou snuggled closer, nuzzling Marik's chest. He was utterly exhausted.

After all, it had been the kinkiest day Ryou had ever experienced.

Had it been anyone else, Ryou would've been terrified, embarrassed, scared or horrified. But it had not been anyone else, it had been Marik, and when Marik had wound the soft scarves around Ryou's wrists towards the bed, Ryou had never felt more trust in Marik than he had then.

Sighing in content again, Ryou gently nuzzled into Marik's chest, feeling at utter ease. It had been so long since he had felt such wonderfully warm arms wound around him. It made him feel secure, safe…and special.

After all, Marik loved him….

Grinning, Ryou sat up a bit, stretching himself. He hadn't had a chance to stretch his legs out much that day; after all, Marik had insisted that things would be more interesting in bed. Despite how enjoyable romping was, Ryou would've liked to simply take a quiet, serene walk.

Though his heart ached for Marik to come along with him, Ryou couldn't bear to awake his lover from his sleep. Marik simply looked far too innocent and content when he was asleep to be disturbed.

Yawning and stretching again, Ryou decided that one quick walk wouldn't hurt. His fever was still present, and his breathing was getting a little more difficult.

_Probably just a clogged up throat,_ he thought, somewhat bothered as he wrinkled his slightly stuffy nose. _I can never breathe well when I have fevers…I hope this one isn't too bad…_

If anything, Ryou decided, walking would be helpful. The cool air always helped calm his senses.

One quick walk wouldn't hurt.

* * *

"Wow…"

Chuckling, Bakura strode up behind the awestruck Malik.

"Like what you see?"

Finally shutting his gaping mouth, Malik nodded. He turned towards Bakura, a sunny, amazed smile on his face.

"I've never seen such a view!" he breathed with incredulity. Bakura snickered lightly.

They were now standing upon a tall, rolling precipice of a hill, with long, soft strands of green grass tickling their calves. Beyond the bowing ripples of green stretched a fine carpet of emerald grass, rolling on for miles, until it would trail off into a stitch of a cerulean river. On the other side of the crystal slither, neat dunes of golden sand piled upon pile, before slowing growing into tall, triangle stones as they entered the setting horizon.

It had been one of Bakura's favorite places when he was younger; playing in the dunes, swimming in the river, and most memorable of all, hiding in the grass. Though Bakura hardly ever dared himself to reminisce about his past, the return of his once heart-kept land with his former lover had eased the pain enough for him to enjoy remembering his childhood…even it was just for a moment.

"The sunset's lovely," Malik breathed to himself, almost contemplating as he stared at the golden horizon. Bakura cocked his head to the side, arching a casual eyebrow.

"So you like sunsets too?" Bakura said. "Never would've known."

Malik sent the thief a good-hearted smirk. "Do care to remember that the sun was the very first thing I ever saw of the outside world."

Bakura snorted, but it was as soft and good-hearted as Malik's smirk. He poked Malik in the nose. "Girly."

"I am not," Malik protested, though his grin somewhat ruined his voice.

"Ryou's girly, and he likes sunsets," Bakura said matter-of-factly.

"Ryou's _always _girly," Malik snorted. "What with being a neat-freak, combing his long hair all the time, and the way he walks and even _sits…that's_ girly."

Bakura laughed. "And what does that make you, then?" he teased.

Smirking mischievously, Malik suddenly turned around, his hands grabbing the front of Bakura's robes. The thief's eyes widened slightly when Malik turned his head upwards, so that red-brown eyes were staring deep into lavender ones. Bakura had to fight hard to swallow; their faces were only a finger's length apart.

"Well…" Malik whispered softly, amazed at his own daring. "What do _you _think?

Silence was Bakura's only answer, flittering from his caught lips. The wind blew between them softly, singing sweetly in each other's ears, ruffling Bakura's white locks in tune with Malik's golden strands. Bakura swallowed again.

By the gods Malik was beautiful.

How the sun would outline his hair, shining as though a golden halo above Malik's own golden strands. How Malik's skin seemed to literally shimmer bronze, and how his amethyst eyes twinkled with every bat of his long, black eyelashes. It almost seemed as though he was literally a god…his entire, beauteous form seemed to make up of only gold and riches. His golden hair, his bronze skin, his amethyst eyes and ruby lips…

Shaking his head rapidly to clear his thoughts, Bakura snapped himself back to reality.

"Okay okay," he confessed, still shaking his head to rid himself of the godly image before him. "You're not girly."

Chuckling, Malik grinned, releasing Bakura's robes. The thief sent him a look.

"Aw, did I make Baku look less seme than usual?" Malik teased. Bakura spat out his tongue.

"You're a child."

"So are you," Malik laughed. "Look at you. You haven't stuck out a tongue at me since…since…" Malik paused, thinking back. "Actually, I don't think you ever stuck your tongue out at me…"

"Unless it was for a good cause," Bakura finished, suddenly looking smug. "Wanna come here and try that?" he challenged, a secretive, suggestive look in his eyes.

Malik's eyes widened. "Bakura!" he scolded, aghast. He smacked Bakura in the head. "Perv."

"I am not!" Bakura protested, despite his smile. "I'm just an innocent little boy who's still growing."

"Uh huh, sure," Malik replied, settling down among the grass. "A little innocent boy like you wouldn't be having a massive orgasm right now."

"I can see your dick pressing into your thigh now, so don't be a hypocrite," Bakura retorted back just as easily, as he sat down next to Malik.

"I wasn't the one who thought everyone was looking at their jackhammer," Malik retorted.

"I wasn't the one who brought _up_ the jackhammer," Bakura replied smugly.

"Well I'm not the one who takes women to bed all over Egypt," Malik said, giving Bakura a look that clearly said, _I know what you do at night. _Bakura laughed.

"And I'm not the one with the most pervertest yami of us all, who's probably screwing Ryou so senseless right now that I can bet we can hear his screams all the way here," Bakura finished triumphantly.

Malik blinked at him.

Bakura blinked back.

Without further ado, both of them burst out laughing, toppling into the long grass like two little children.

By this time, the sun had finished setting, and the darkness had triumphed the sky. Little dots of white scattered the velvet sky, twinkling cheerfully as the two boys continued their childish argument, teasing back and forth like there was no tomorrow.

When their laughter finally ceased into light chuckles, Malik rolled onto his back, sighing with content as he stared up into the stars. Still chuckling, Bakura slowly sat up, laying his arm on one of his upright knees and staring at Malik curiously. Malik gave him a snickering smile and sighed.

"I love our conversations, don't you?" Bakura asked innocently.

Malik laughed. "If anyone ever heard us, they'd think we were insane pervs."

Bakura snorted. "Us? They'd have to deal with Marik first before they ever thought _us _as insane pervs. I can bet you all of the gold in Egypt that he's still screwing Ryou right now."

"You don't need to bet all of the gold in Egypt to know _that,_" Malik snickered back.

Both of them fell into another round of chuckles, before Malik took a deep breath, and sat up.

"Thanks for spending some time with me today," Malik whispered sincerely. "It meant a lot to me."

Bakura's gaze softened, and a smile found its way across his lips as well.

"Hey, we had fun," he said, his smile becoming a bit of a grin. "I wouldn't mind doing this again."

Nodding, Malik smiled again, before he rested his head back, staring high into the night sky. He could've almost felt Bakura do the same thing, and for a moment, neither said a word, totally at peace with staring at the stars in silence.

They sat there, staring up high at the heavens for heaven knows how long. As the night air become cooler, Malik sighed contentedly, throwing his golden strands back and closing his eyes in bliss. It felt so good to be simply sitting there, among the grass, letting the desert wind ease him of everything that was upon his mind.

However, he was startled out of his little trance when he felt a hand tentatively soothe his hair. Jerking up, he saw Bakura immediately retrieve his hand, looking away. What surprised Malik, however, was that the thief's cheeks were actually red.

"Was there…something you wanted?" Malik tried, suddenlyfeeling a little shy in spite of himself.

Bakura didn't reply, still staring off in the other direction, slowly taking off his robe and jewels. It was then did Malik take the chance to analyze the thief better, and was astounded at what he saw.

He had always been used to seeing Bakura pale and slim, exclude the occasional muscle and hot abs. But now as Malik allowed his eyes to trail over the thief's form, they widened with adoration and awe. Dark skin complimented Bakura very well! And his legs…Malik was used to seeing them slender and thin, but now they looked stronger, sexier.

And gods, the thief's chest!

Malik, of course, liked to work out. That's where he got his figure from, and knew exactly what was the best look when it came to six packs and guts. So when his eyes lay upon Bakura's Ra-damn sexy chest, he was in utter awe. Smooth, tanned, and simply heavenly.

It made Malik curious as to who would be stronger: Bakura now or Marik?

As he felt Malik staring at him, Bakura's hair began to prickle. Why wouldn't the blush go away! Regaining composure as best he could, he turned around, giving Malik a curious gaze, and was surprised to see Malik jerk back and look away. His cheeks were a bright red.

"Something interests you?" Bakura asked, a small smile appearing upon his lips.

He hears Malik giggle nervously, before forcing out a laugh. "Hah…nothing…really."

"Nothing?" Bakura asked, cocking his head to one side. "You sure?"

"I'm…I'm sure," Malik said, though his voice faltered a little. "I mean, there's nothing between us, right?"

"…I guess," Bakura murmured, at length. "That is, if you don't want anything to happen between us."

Malik turned around, giving Bakura a little, indignant glare. "You say that every time I ask."

Bakura made an innocent face. "It's the truth! If you want to go further, then hell, tell me!"

Malik laughed, in spite of himself. "You're so perverted."

"Marik's perverted," Bakura said, looking a little indignant. "And so are you."

"I'm not perverted!" Malik gasped, giving Bakura an insane look. Bakura replied with a cheeky smile.

"Oh?"

Malik nodded, smiling broadly. "Uh huh."

At this, Bakura merely shrugged, but Malik could see a rather wide smirk as the thief turned back around, flinging his croppy white hair against the wind, giving the keeper a rather enticing look at his profile. Malik couldn't help but allow his mouth to gap slightly at Bakura's crimson eyes, his white silver hair.

Obviously aware that Malik was ogling him like there was no tomorrow, Bakura decided to use this to his advantage. Yawning casually, the thief made an effort to turn towards the left, his cloak sliding pass his biceps and onto the ground as he stretched, showing the Keeper a _very_ good view of his abs. Yawning and stretching again, Bakura made a stand, turning away, and stretched once more, his torso now fully bare, giving Malik a very good view of his rear.

"Okay, Bakura, stop torturing me!" Malik cried, who had shut his eyes from the bandit's sexy view. "Okay okay! I admit it! You're hot, you're sexy, and yes, yes, I like looking at them!"

"You give in way too easily," Bakura chuckled, finally deciding to end his little hard-to-get act and settling down next to Malik. Quickly and softly, Bakura stole a kiss from Malik's cheek, before burying his face into Malik's shoulder. Malik blinked.

"B-Bakura?" Malik ventured.

"Yeah, well, fine, I admit," Bakura snickered, "you're cute too."

Cheeks flushing, Malik huffed, though he was still grinning. "Cute? Is that all I am?"

"Would you be offended if I said the truth?" Bakura asked mildly. Malik pouted.

"You think I'm ugly?"

"Whoever said that the truth was terrible?" Bakura said, sounding a little incredulous as he pulled back, before giving the Keeper a look. "Fine. Here's the truth: you're not cute. You're beautiful, you're hot, and damn it, you're so sexy I have to sit on my hands so I can control myself. That's the truth."

Malik blinked, before giggling. "Wow. Blunt."

"That's who I am," Bakura said, smiling. Gently, as though almost subconsciously, his hand came up to the base of Malik's neck, warm and comforting, before sliding into the depths of Malik's golden strands. The Keeper couldn't help but purr as he leaned in to Bakura's familiar, warm touch, remembering those times when they had made love, and when Bakura finally dropped his "Darkness" side and became who he was. This thief. Bakura was this thief, not a spirit, not a yami, but a human, with flesh and blood, and a heart.

"I really wish….that we could be together…again," Malik whispered distantly, as he leaned in closer to Bakura, eventually leaning against the thief's chest, his head fitted snugly at the junction of Bakura's neck. For a moment, Malik felt the thief tighten his grip, his warm arms encircling lovingly around Malik's waist.

"….I don't know," Bakura finally replied softly, at length. "I suppose I'd really like to…there are many things in the world I'd like to do, Malik…but….sometimes…I just can't have them…"

Malik blinked, turning around to look at his former love with his large lavender eyes. "Why? You're the Thief King. You can have anything you want."

A thoughtful silence followed, before Bakura finally broke it, looking away.

"Sometimes," Bakura said softly, diverting his gaze distantly towards the sands, "It's

better to ask for something precious, than to risk your life stealing it. Unfortunately, those things are usually the most precious and the most important things in life, the most needed necessity that one needs to live, and sadly, they're things you just can't steal." He looked up, looking deeply into Malik's eyes, a soft, loving smile creeping up on his lips. "Like…love."

"Love?" Malik whispered, blinking his lavender eyes, making them all the more beautiful with each flutter of eyelashes. By Ra, how close were their lips; immediately Malik felt his heart race up, his head dim and fogged, his body putty and lax entirely, held upright by merely the intense gaze of Bakura's crimson eyes.

The thief was distracted as well, his eyes half-lidded as he watched sparkles appear within the depths of Malik's eyes, yearning to capture those supple, sweet lips. Just looking at Malik this way made Bakura long for them to be together again, long for them to feel each other's warmth, each other's comfort…

"I can't…steal love," Bakura whispered distantly, disbelieving that he was saying such things. Yet, he felt as though they were right to say now, with Malik. Malik was the only person he ever felt confident enough to be himself around; with Ryou he felt he needed to be dominant to put Ryou in place, and even now, Bakura could not feel such a thing towards his former host. With Marik, he had to be equal, damnit, equally strong and equally evil. But with _Malik_….

"Why can't you steal love?" Malik whispered, breaking Bakura's thoughts. "You already stole my heart once before…maybe now, you just need to ask."

Bakura thought for a moment, still mesmerized by Malik's enchanting lavender eyes, before he replied softly, his breath washing over Malik's heavenly lips. The wind began to sing again, coaxing them together with its woven voice.

_There are some things you can steal…and some things you can ask for…_

"There are…many things I'd like to have," Bakura said softly, very distantly, as he carefully pondered his thoughts, "but I can't steal…like forgiveness…acceptance…and..."

He looked deep into Malik's eyes once more, his hand gently soothing through Malik's hair, as the Keeper purred lightly at the touch.

_…more precious than gold or sliver…or food and water…_

"…and…love," Bakura whispered.

"Well…" Malik whispered back, as Bakura leaned closer in, his lips just millimeters apart, "…all you really need to do, Bakura…is just…ask."

"Ask…" Bakura repeated quietly, as though it was something he just comprehended, before capturing Malik's lips entirely.

…_there are…some things you can't steal…_

His heart swelled as he numbly realized that Malik was actually kissing _back_. And what was more, this was not the usual kiss they shared, the one when they'd have tongues twisting within hot caverns accompanied by traveling hands. No. This was the first sincere kiss they'd had in ages, and Bakura could feel all his worries being banished away by the simple clasp of those heaven-sweet lips.

_…but are just given to you…_

As Bakura raised both hands to Malik's hair, their silky strands slipping through Bakura's intertwining fingers…as Malik slowly wound his arm around Bakura's neck, drawing them closer together…as Bakura finally managed to comprehend that he was kissing the one thing that made his life worthwhile, that made his life brighter…his heart rejoiced.

_There are some things you can steal…_

He closed his eyes, his lips feeling warm and soft again…

_…but some things that you can ask for._

* * *

Aw, kawaii! My most romantic, sweetest, fluffiest Thief Bakura x Malik moment!

Oh yes, poem is the "Highwayman", and I altered the lyrics to fit Bakura. Call it a bit of Yu-Gi-Oh/Highwayman parody. For those who do know which song I'm talking about, go and find it! It's a sweet and beautiful song.

Gosh, I made Thief Bakura so much fun! (and yes, I do think Thief Bakura spends some times at night with women...what, with that body? Of course!)

Eeee...Marik...why are you so kinky now...? (sticks out tongue) It's strange writing Marik ala canon. But don't worry. He'll progress. (Is still swimming with the image of a Thief Bakura in her mind...drrooooool)

Please read and review! There will be an actual MarikxRyou lemon soon. Well, there will be at least two. I'm trying to make it an uneven three, so it'd be more...simmetrical, so to speak, but I can't find an opportunity to squish it in. I doubt there'd be any Bakura x Malik lemon though..this is, as Never Knew was, a MarikxRyou centered fic. So, just Bakura x Malik fluff. That's all. (beams) But don't worry. There will be lemons, and they will be good.


	11. Waking the Night

OMG I AM SO SORRY FOR GETTING THIS UP SO LATE!

I was on my vacation. So terribly sorry! Please forgive me! (bows) PLEASE FORGIVE ME! I WORKED HARD ON THIS CHAPTER! HONESTLY I DID!

**Y.BakuraY.Malikfan:** How can you not imagine Thief Bakura x Malik! (claps) That's one of my most favourite shippings! You must read "Yu-Gi-Oh: Aurora" by Mouko. It's a beautiful Thief Bakura x Malik story! And as for Bakura being seme? Geez, not a sweat! (big grin) Our arrogant, evil self-proclaimed King of Thieves can only be uke if …er….well….he was…strapped down….somewhere…and…er….it was…psychoshipping, or something….(sweatdrops)

I just like showing Bakura's softer side, so if there are times when he or Marik himself might show signs of "ukeness", it's usually something really emotional. I just want to portray everyone evenly. I don't want Ryou to forever stay a weakling, so he'll have his stronger moments. I don't' want Marik to forever be OMG-LORD-OF-SEME, so there are times when he'd have his weaker moments. Of course, I don't want Bakura to have his OMG-I'M-THE-DARKNESS forever either, and nor do I want Malik's OMG-I'M-A-HIKARI-SO-THAT'S-WHY-EVERYONE-SHOULD-NEGLECT-THE-FACT-THAT-I-ONCE-TRIED-TO-KILL-YAMI-YUGI-AND-JUST-CALL-ME-CUTE moments.

Btw, has anyone else noticed that Ryou's not as "happy-weak-hikari" in Duelist Kingdom than in Battle City? I saw screenshots of him frowning tons of times in Duelist Kingdom! (blinku) I don't think Marik would be pleased if he ever found out Ryou's not as weak as he seems…

* * *

Chapter Eleven: Waking the Night 

Ryou loved walking at night.

Just like the last time he had, the night was a tranquil darkness, cool and peaceful, accompanied with the softest of breezes and the dimmest of the moon. The grains of sand felt cool and soft beneath his bare feet, and the night air felt clear and refreshing with each breath he took.

He loved how the wind would tickle his hair, how it would sing in his ear, and how it would caress his skin, washing all his worries away. The night particularly was Ryou's favourite time to walk; although being in the darkness was terrifying after living with Bakura, Ryou supposed he had a small, darker half himself inside of him; after all, so did everyone else.

He loved it when the night was this peaceful. Just the thought of calm isolation and quiet seclusion calmed him of his senses. Even though he was often terrified of being alone, there were times when the nights just no longer seemed to be dangerous any longer. And since there were only a few, rare nights like these, Ryou loved to take advantage of them with every moment he had.

Face splitting into a childish grin, he suddenly pounced into the nearby field of grass, and proceeded to skip through the tall, bowing emerald strands like a child would, his laughter echoing in the tranquil night.

* * *

After dropping of Malik at the Keeper's entrance, Bakura had left for his own home. He had not stolen much that day; after all, it was difficult to steal whenever the sun rose, but he didn't quite care. After all, he had just seen Malik, and that very thought alone brought a wide grin to Bakura's face. 

He had seen him again. He had seen his lover, his former lover, once again. And what was more…Malik had been willing to get together again, and furthermore…returned Bakura's kiss!

The simple thought of Malik's kiss brought Bakura a wave of warmth that he could not describe, but loved experiencing all the same.

As he neared a tall cliff, where there was a small cave that he often resided in, hidden behind many branches of trees and just as many bushes, there was a crack behind him, and then a yelp.

Sharply turning around, all happiness evaporating into predator senses, Bakura snapped about, his eyes narrowing critically at the source of the sound. Behind him was a field of long, wavy grass, though they were black in the darkness. Not doubting his sense of hearing, Bakura turned his spur towards the west, the horse's hooves clopping soundlessly as he neared the source of the sound. An animal, perhaps?

If it was, then Bakura would have food tonight.

Sliding off his horse, the thief casually slipped out his dagger from beneath his cloak, approaching his victim with silent ease. The prey shuffled a bit, the wavy grass bowing further from its movement, confirming Bakura's suspicions. Quietly, he slowly crouched among the tall strands of black…drew his dagger high…and….

"ACK! YAMI-SAMA!"

Startled by the loud, familiar cry, Bakura stumbled back, the dagger flying out of his hands. Even the horse, who had been observing intently, let out a small snort at Bakura's surprise. The thief sent his spur a venomous look, as the horse had always watched Bakura steal aimlessly at night.

Ryou, poor, shocked, trembling Ryou quickly sat up among the grass, his snowy-white hair finally bobbing over the waves of black. His eyes were wide and terrified, and his arms were folded above him, shielding his head. The hikari was frozen, merely staring in stunned terror as he watched the former yami stand up, brushing dirt off his cloak.

Finally regaining his composure, the white-haired bandit narrowed his gaze piercingly into Ryou's softer orbs, almost accusingly.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here, hikari?" Bakura snapped.

Wincing, Ryou gradually lowered his arms from their defensive positions, still staring at Bakura with slight fear in his eyes.

"W-Walking," Ryou replied shakily.

"And where did walking include hiding among the grass?" asked Bakura irritably, turning about and picking up his discarded dagger from the ground. "Really. You ought to be far more careful, hikari. Next time that happens…" He sent Ryou a sharp, pointed look. "Well, we'll ee what happens then."

Ryou swallowed. "I'm sorry, Yami-sama," he apologized weakly. "I was just out here for a walk, that's all."

"Oh really?" At this, Bakura arched an eyebrow. "A walk? Personally, I didn't even think you were capable of such a thing after your sweet reunion with Screw-You King Marik."

The Light, despite being shaken and slightly fearful, made a slight face. "Well…that's none of your business!" Ryou said, blushing furiously. "I was just out for a walk, that's all. You know I like walking."

"Yes, of course, but in the dark?" asked the thief idly. "I thought little bitty Ryou was afraid of the dark."

"Not when it's like this," Ryou replied. He spread his arms wide. "Look. It's peaceful. It's night. It's serene. I like it."

"Peaceful?" Bakura asked, a smirk appearing upon his face. "Serene?"

"Well…" Ryou shifted, looking slightly doubtful. "What else would it be?"

Suddenly, the thief's hand swiftly shot out, and a flash of silver skidded past Ryou's shin. With a yelp, Ryou dodged to one side, landing hard into the ground. The sound of the dagger embedding itself into the soil echoed after him, and slowly, Ryou opened his eyes.

Next to his feet, with the Thief King's dagger struck through its head, was a long, motionless serpent, its flickering tongue still. Considering where it was, had Bakura not struck it as fast as he had, the snake could've attacked Ryou, and the Light would've been in great peril.

Blinking, Ryou slowly turned his head towards his former darker half, watching in blank shock as Bakura strode forward. Bending down, the thief swiftly retrieved his dagger, ignoring the small fountain of red that sprouted forth from the serpent's mouth. Slipping back the dagger to its original place at his waist, the looming thief regarded Ryou with a smug look, his smirk still in place.

"Peaceful, you think?" Bakura asked innocently.

* * *

_"Ryou…Ryou?" _

_The name echoed in the darkness, alone and empty, receiving no reply from the abyss. Its sound traveled about, but only returning, its mission futile, empty and bare, to its possessor. _

_Purple clouds loomed and curled about, their lavender tendrils sinister and cold. The air was a hanging curtain of night, stifling and apprehensive, as though within minutes, its material would swoop about and consume the victim, and stifle it to the death._

_"Ryou?"_

_The name was, once again, returned by nothing._

_Sharp shivers of steel cold sparked through the victim's veins, hard and icy, reuniting at his spine, before shocking upwards. A sense of dread filled the captive, knowing that there was no way out, no way to escape. _

_"Ryou?"_

_And yet, once again, the effort was futile. No answer was replied, and no voice responded. No soft, melodious voice, no sparkling, shy laughter. Nothing. _

No. It could not be. He had to be here. He had to be here, with him…with him…by his side, as he had promised…as he had promised.

_The captive growled lowly beneath his breath, cursing darkly as he turned his face to the side. Of course, bleak darkness greeted him, as how it had when he had first entered, when he had first stepped foot in the realm of darkness_

"_Ryou!". _

_And finally…finally…ever so faintly…an answer was replied, so soft, so fragile, so desperate._

_"…Marik…?"_

_"Ryou!" the captive yelled, his senses alerted, his back straightened. "RYOU!"_

_And again, that very faint answer…pleading, needing…_

_"…Ma…rik…?"_

_It was farther now, it's echo lonely and a whisper. With a start, he straightened sternly, and sprinted forward, desperate the rescue the small voice that awaited his need. He had no idea where he was going, whether or not he was nearer or farther than before, but there it was…the voice. He had to be somewhere here!_

_"RYOU!"_

_"…Ma…Marik…p-please…p-please…help me…"_

_"Ryou!" the Shadow Master yelled. "Hold on!" He continued to run, his deep amethyst eyes darting from side to side, in effort to see where his lover was, black cloak flapping sharply behind him in the darkness. _

_"Hang in there Ryou!" he yelled. "I'm coming!"_

_This time, however, to his dismay, there was no answer. _

* * *

"Nice…place," Ryou said hesitantly. 

"It keeps the cold out," Bakura said off-handedly.

After the incident with the snake, Ryou had asked if Bakura could kindly take him home, where Marik was probably worrying. The thief, of course, had rejected rather bluntly, even laughing at such a suggestion. The night had gotten colder, and Ryou desperately needed a place to stay. Annoyed at his 'whining', Bakura had gruffly said that he must had a cloak about somewhere in his home, which was right in the cliff next to them.

Hence, Ryou had followed Bakura up to the cave, thanking him along the way. The thief merely shook it off, his gruff reply simply, "If it shuts you up."

"Hmn…okay…" Bakura muttered, stalking over to the corner of the cave, dodging the pointed cones of rock that hung above, "…now where did I put…"

"You sure it's alright?" Ryou asked, interrupting Bakura's verbal train of thought. The cave made him feel uneasy.

"If you don't whine later," Bakura replied gruffly.

Ryou winced slightly, still rather nervous.

It wasn't the fact that he was with Bakura that made him nervous, hardly. Ever since that night when he and Bakura had their discussion, there had been a subconscious note of civilry between them. In fact, Ryou was surprised that Bakura hadn't left him in the dust yet. Granted, some part of Ryou knew that Bakura was pleased about seeing Malik again; you didn't live with your darker half for a decade without picking up something along the way. For nothing made Bakura this lenient and this pleased than Malik.

But no. It was simply just the dwelling of Bakura; the lone, dark cave, dangled with sharp cones of cold stone, lit with a couple of oily candles. A man-made bed of wood and stolen linens was standing in one corner, its expensive sheets ruffled and stained with blood. Random chests of jewelry and expensive robes were scattered about the cave, some teetering precariously upon other. Cloaks and sheets were dangly from the open chests, threatening to trip any trespasser within their way.

Shifting awkwardly at the entrance of the cave, Ryou coughed quietly. His intake of breath was short again that day, probably due to his fever. Thankfully, the illness had subsided somewhat; he wasn't feeling at all dizzy, or unbalanced. Still, Ryou thought his lungs were getting a bit weak, which was strange. Oh well.

At the cough, the thief straightened a bit, sending Ryou his usual sharp, intense stare.

"Fever still there?" the thief asked, his voice curt, devoid of his usual sarcastic tone.

Ryou nodded, clearing his throat softly. "Yes, Yami-sama," he replied. "But it's getting better."

Bakura merely gave him another intense, sharp look, his face locked in stern expression. After seemingly analyzing Ryou for a few moments, the thief returned to his corner, bending over to find a suitable cloak for Ryou.

"You better get it treated, hikari," Bakura muttered, still rummaging about. Ryou blinked.

"Oh…all right," he said weakly. "I…didn't know you were so concerned."

"I'm not," Bakura muttered bluntly. "I just don't want Marik on my ass if you die or something. He'll probably blame it on me and then I'll have him after me, as well as the rest of the Pharaoh's foot soldiers. Don't want any trouble."

Ryou nodded understandingly. Of course Bakura didn't care Ryou for Ryou. But it was alright. After all, Ryou never really had cared whether or not Bakura cared for him back. Still…it would've been at least somewhat nice to know that Bakura would care for his well being. Despite Marik being Ryou's lover, it was still Bakura who knew the most about Ryou.

"So uh…how are things…with you and Malik?" Ryou asked tentatively, trying to break the awkward moment. Without even turning about, Bakura stiffened, momentarily pausing in his search.

"Why do you ask?" he asked, somewhat warily.

Hastily, Ryou shook his head. "Nothing," he said. "It's just that…you seem happy, that's all."

"There could be other things that make me happy other than Malik," Bakura murmured, returning to his search. Smiling softly, Ryou shook his head.

"Not this happy."

Bakura didn't reply, straightening and heading off to another rounded of the cave, throwing crumpled sheets of linen about as he did so. Purposefully he chose a load of chests that caused him to avoid Ryou's direction, in case the Light should probe further by searching his face or eyes.

Hesitantly, Ryou sat himself down on a nearby rock, brushing off some bloodied robe onto the floor. His soft smile was still in place though, as he watched Bakura continue to find a robe that wasn't bloodstained, golden coins and jewelry clinking quietly in the background.

"You met him today, didn't you?" Ryou asked, hugging his knees to himself, cocking his head to one side. "I can tell."

"Then why ask?" Bakura snorted, throwing a strand of a necklace over his shoulder. Ryou cocked his head to the other side, avoiding the golden ornament as it hit the wall behind him with a soft _clink._

"Well…I suppose I didn't have to ask," Ryou smiled. "It's written all over your face."

Bakura snorted again, running a hand through his hair.

"I mean…" This time, Ryou's smile spread into an awed beam, "…there are times…after you see Malik, you face just…lights up. It doesn't matter if you are with anyone else or not…sometimes, just looking in your eyes…people can see that there's someone special on your mind. You can tell a lot of things by looking at people's eyes."

Bakura huffed, finally looking back at Ryou. "Oh really?" he asked sarcastically. Ryou nodded.

"Of course," he said. "I mean, when I see your eyes now, I can practically sere Malik in them too, because you're still thinking about him. I can see them twinkling and soften every time I mention him. Of course, you hide your emotions really well, like Marik…"

"What do you see in his eyes?" Bakura asked loudly, skillfully avoiding the subject. "He's got stones for eyes. What can you possibly seen in them?"

At the mention of Marik, Ryou split into a grin. "A lot," he whispered, all trace of awkward fear gone, his voice full of soft awe and breathless joy. "A lot."

"Like what?" asked Bakura, snorting again. "He's a Darkness. He can't feel anything, much less allow any emotion to be seen in his eyes."

"He doesn't show emotions often, true," Ryou agreed, missing Bakura's invective entirely. "But that's why you have to look hard enough. He won't show emotions really often outside, but the one thing that does show his emotions, regardless of what he's acting, is his eyes."

This time, Bakura laughed, his head thrown back, white crops of hair falling at his shoulders. "Of course you see nothing in his eyes," Bakura laughed. "Because he _is _nothing. Nothing more than a heartless, cruel, pathetic wannabe King."

Ryou shook his head vigorously. "No," he whispered, his voice filled with love and awe. "No. If you look hard enough…sometimes his eyes aren't as sharp and cold as everyone thinks they are…sometimes they twinkle, and it's his way of smiling secretly. And sometimes they sparkle, and that's his way of acting truly triumphant. And sometimes…when he's really feeling something strong…they turn into a soft lavender, so warm…and so soft."

In response, Bakura shook his head. "I don't believe you. Marik is cold, heartless, and cruel. His eyes are just pieces of stone, cold, heartless stone. Nothing more."

* * *

_"…Help me…"_

_Running about for hours on end, and yet, to no avail. The darkness spread and stretched about as though infinity, looping and endless. _

_By then Marik was close to giving up, his efforts obviously fruitless. And yet, there was a spark within him, though small, it was still growing evermore, urging him to continue. For he could not abandon the voice that kept on pleading for his aid, begging for his help, for his presence._

No_, he thought. _I won't let anything happen to him. I promised I'd be there for him, and I will find him.

_His flame sparked and his determination refueled, the former Shadow Master purged on ahead, feeling the dark tendrils curling away at his need, creating a path for him. _

_Suddenly, a scream echoed through the clouds of black and purple, pain-filled and broken. Startled, Marik froze, his eyes darting about for the source of the scream. _

_"Ryou? RYOU!"_

_Again, that familiar cry, this time weaker, and fading. A voice soon followed, defeated and broken, pleading and begging, yet empty of any hope. It were as if it was one last chance, one last attempt to find a savior._

_"Please…please…M-Marik…please save me…"_

_The voice trailed off then, broken by a soft sigh, before going still. Eyes widening, Marik sprinted off again, running as fast as he could, his cloak snapping behind him from the speed of his sprint._

_"Hold on, Ryou!" he yelled, all cold and dark appearance disappearing. He could feel his ego and Darkness pride ebbing away, replaced with only human emotions…strange, human emotions…like worry, fear…weakness emotions…weakling human emotions._

_Finally, he could feel the darkness parting, and, taking his chance, ripped through the clouds of black, tearing them away from his sight. _

_He froze._

_A pale, familiar naked figure lay upon the floor, ivory hair spilled upon the dark ground, dotted and splattered with faint flecks of red. Large, soft eyes were closed, tensed in pain, and yet relaxed with the relief of unconsciousness, as though embracing death._

_Above the naked figure, however, knelt a similar form, though the newcomer's eyes were narrow and sharp, cold and heartless. The lifeless one was lying in the living's arms, one hand clenched at the other's shirt, a soft smile of content on his face. Softly, without even regarding Marik's presence, the other white-haired figure gently traced a finger down the dead one's cheek, as though feeling it's porcelain softness to make sure it was lifeless. _

_And yet, the soft voice that had pleaded for him, pleaded for Marik, was still there, quiet and relaxed, relieved._

_"…Thank you…Bakura-sama…I…love you."_

* * *

Eyes shot open instantly, revealing small, shocked amethyst irises. Golden bangs hanged limply before them, and sweat trickled down in beads against dark, tanned skin. 

Taking a deep breath, Marik closed his eyes, falling back upon the pillow. It was that dream again. The same dream that had haunted him in the Shadows, and many days after. The same dream that tormented him with his weak, human emotions, the same emotions that he loathed and hated now. The same dream of many.

_Weak, human emotions, _Marik growled to himself. Pathetic, weak, human emotions. Oh, how he hated them. How he hated them for making him feel inferior. How he despised them for making him feel lowly. And oh, how he _loathed _for making him…if possible…weak.

And oh, how he _despised _those dreams. How he'd see Ryou…_his_ _Ryou…_tortured, weak, beaten, and worse…with _Bakura._

Marik had no idea exactly when he had become so insecure. He had never thought of Bakura as anyone potential enough to take Ryou away from him, being the weakling, pathetic duelist that he was. And yet, those images came to him, over and over in the Shadow Realm…came to revelation while Marik remained dormant in the realm of Darkness.

And now, perhaps the dreams were intensified because of Ryou's relationship with his darker half now. No longer did Marik hear whispers of fear at night, Ryou begging him to watch out for Bakura, to make sure that Bakura would never tear them apart. Now it was "Yami-sama is alright. Really, he is." If Bakura no longer hurt Ryou…(even Marik narrowed his eyes at such a suggestion)…then…what was there for Marik to do?

He had always protected Ryou. Always. He had never left Ryou's side, protecting him, caring him, loving him. Bakura was the actual reason why Ryou had admitted his love in the first place; if there was no longer any Bakura to be afraid of, then would Marik mean anything to Ryou again?

At that moment, Marik solemnly wished that he had never told Ryou he was strong. If Ryou was stronger, then he would no longer need Marik…and if he no longer needed Marik, then…what did Marik have left?

And oh, how Marik hated have the lower hand in these situations.

He no longer had his plan to rule the world any longer. The pharaoh had most likely forgotten about him already, and if what Bakura said was true, then the pharaoh would have another villain on his hand to worry about. He had lost his chance already, and now he had nothing. Nothing except his name…Marik Ishtal…and Ryou.

And if he should never have Ryou?

Suddenly, an image of Bakura and Ryou embracing one another floated into Marik's vision, and anger swelled in his veins, boiling his blood with rage. No. Ryou was _his! His! _No one else on the earth was supposed to protect him, to be his comfort. That role was for Marik…_only _for Marik…and no one else! Ryou…Ryou should've known that! How could Ryou…his trustful, honest Ryou, able to bend at his will at any moment, his _insecure, helpless Ryou…_embrace Bakura, his former abusive darker half, and yet brush it off as if nothing happened? Why had he not told Marik? Why had he slithered away like a snake in the darkness, betraying the only trust Marik ever had in _anybody_?

Ryou should've known. Ryou should've known how it would affect Marik if he should ever find them like that. He knew Marik was possessive, was dominant. And yet, there he was…betraying Marik's only trust…his only trust in anyone. And how was Ryou to make it up to Marik? Giving him pathetic, lowly wooden _dolls._

At least Marik had his pleasure of releasing his anger upon Ryou. Tying Ryou to the bed, thrusting deep within him, taking him as though forcefully, hearing his pained, pleasure-filled cries…yes. Oh, how he liked twisting the trust Ryou had in him into something else. Just like Ryou did to him.

_Why are you thinking this? _a little voice pleaded suddenly. That voice. It was that voice again. That strange, small, chiding voice, so soft, so reasoning. _He trusted you. He said he liked it. And you know he would never have liked it if it hadn't been you. He did it for you. He liked it for you._

No, Marik thought loudly. No. Ryou had simply betrayed his trust, and nothing more. Marik had never been one to take things lightly. And how Ryou simply had just led him into a sense of security, and betrayed that security…well…needless to say, Marik could feel the Shadows within him rear at his command, throbbing through his boiling veins, merging with his red-hot blood, becoming one with him. Those Shadows would soon lash out, unable to be controlled by Marik any longer…and if that happened…

Suddenly, Marik realized one important thing.

Ryou wasn't in the bed with him.

Growling dangerously, Marik got out of bed, slipping on his attire and heading out into the desert.

_You better not be where I think you might be,_ he hissed to himself, as he straddled his horse and galloped into the night. _Because if you are…one more time and you will regret it, Ryou._

* * *

"And then, when he actually does _smile,_" Ryou continued on, unaware that Bakura was quite under the annoyed impression that he was rambling, "his eyes just light up, even though their half-closed, and sometimes, they glaze a little, and that means that he's upset, and sometimes…" 

"Good Ra," Bakura muttered under his breath. Abruptly, Ryou stopped his rambling, staring at Bakura inquiringly. Calmly the thief stood, one hand clutching a pale blue robe (that was actually clean –-- devoid of blood, grim and all). "You know, when I first met you, I would've never known you were _this _much a romantic."

Blinking still, Ryou blushed slightly, shrinking a bit to himself. "I've always been somewhat a romantic," he said.

"Not when I first met you," Bakura snorted. "You were more into occult and stuff rather than this romance fluffy stuff."

"I'm still into occult!" Ryou objected, though his cheeks were flushing a deeper red. No one had been aware that Ryou was interested in occult as much as Bakura was; it was his secret. Even Marik had not known. Bakura snorted again.

"Whatever. Just never thought a guy who likes to play Tarot all the time in his tower bedroom would like romantic fluffy stuff. Here," he thrust his hand out, shoving the plain, simple robe in front of Ryou. "Take it. But I'm not bringing you home. If I knew you would still whine to me afterwards, I would've kicked you out the moment you stepped foot in here. Now go."

Blinking, Ryou hesitantly took the robe from Bakura's calloused hands, arching a brow at its rough material. Though smaller than the one Bakura was currently wearing, it was still bigger than Ryou, which meant it would keep him warm on the way home. Smiling warmly, Ryou stood up, draping the robe about him.

"Thanks," he said. Bakura rolled his eyes.

"Now will you get out of here?" he asked. "You're very presence is stifling this room. And considering how I don't _like _light or heat, that must say something."

"I'm sure you like Light and 'heat' when you're with Malik," Ryou countered casually, a sly smile on his face.

Bakura's eyes widened, his eyebrows disappearing into his bangs, and Ryou laughed.

"Just kidding," Ryou grinned. He cocked his head to the side, grinning fondly. "But you know…he really does like you, Bakura. He missed you a lot when you two broke up. He can see the good in you, when many others don't. Don't take him for granted, Yami-sama."

Still smiling softly, Ryou moved to embrace the stunned Bakura, his arms wrapping about Bakura's neck. The thief stood, immobilized, his brain screaming that for the _second _time, Ryou was hugging him.

They stood like that for some while, in a somewhat brotherly fashion. Finally coming to his senses, Bakura roughly pushed Ryou away, the force of the push so unintentionally strong that it sent Ryou toppling into the cave wall.

"Just get out of here," Bakura muttered, turning away. "I got sleep to catch up on."

Still smiling, Ryou nodded, exiting out of the cave entrance. With one final look, he glanced back, watching as Bakura tore off his robe, revealing a rather heavily scared back. Ryou blinked, unaware as his eyes trailed about the pale slashes that crisscrossed the thief's spine.

"Are you gone yet?" Bakura yelled, as he was in the back of the cave.

Squeaking, Ryou jumped a bit, pulling the robe closer to himself. With a final, "Goodnight!" and "Thank you!" Ryou quickly left the cave, and embarked on his journey home, unaware that his lover had gone to find him, and was now watching him with enraged amethyst eyes.

* * *

Er...I think Marik's just a tad pissed now, Ryou... 

AGAIN, I'M SO SORRY FOR GETTING THIS UP SO LATE! I'LL DO THE NEXT ONE FASTER, I PROMISE!

Please (even though I don't deserve it) Read and review! (hands out Ryou and Bakura plushies)


	12. Shadows of the Heart

Updated faster, because I was so sorry that I got the other one up so late. I didn't even wait for the reviews to dwindle and dribble away before I posted. (cheeky grin) So, this is my way of apologizing to you guys. Plus, this is a chapterof rising action. The next chapter will be the one action-packed and starting the angst. ANGST BEYOND, READERS! BEWARE FOR A CHUNKLOAD OF ANGST! MORE THAN THREE CHAPTERS AFTER THIS IS JUST ANGST ANGST ANGST!

So, so sorry again for making the last update so slow...that's why this update was quicker. Please give me more and more reviews...my birthday is in three days! Please please please please give me some good reviews for my b-day! And if you guys do, I promise I'll even update sooner with the angst!

The poem/lyrics things at the bottom are my own. I usually write better poems when I don't have rules and regulations and things that absolutely have to make sense. (argh)

* * *

Chapter Twelve: Shadows of the Heart

_He was with Bakura!_

Any hope that Marik had gathered on his search for Ryou through the desert…any at all…had been extinguished when he climbed up the precipice and peered through the side of the cave entrance. Any hope that he had retrieved had been smothered mercilessly when he saw, to his enraged horror, that Ryou had once again, moved forward first to embrace Bakura, with a soft, dreamy smile on his face.

A fire within in roared and reared with intense rage, screaming at in with such intensity that it was insanity, to go after them. To barge right into their little reunion and destroy them both…Bakura first with the most painful death Marik could possibly think of for tearing his Ryou away…and Ryou second, for betraying his trust.

Yet, Marik smothered that fire instantly with his cunning mind, already at work at scheming his perfect rebound victory. _Wait,_ he thought to himself, a sudden, sadistic smirk forming upon his lips._ Just wait…for the opportune moment._

And when that moment came, oh how both Ryou and Bakura would _ever_ regret crossing his path. Bakura's long, slow, agonizing death, his pride destroyed and forced to beg for mercy…his pleading before Ryou's eyes, Ryou's shocked and terrified eyes…and then, after Bakura's dead, bloody, mangled body would collapse onto the floor with a dull thud, it would be Ryou next, oh yes…Ryou next.

But no, Marik would not _kill _Ryou. Oh no. No. He had something far more…_ingenious_…in mind rather than to kill Ryou. After all, why kill Ryou when there were nights awaiting to be filled with pleasure? If Ryou truly did not love him…well…Marik would just have to make him love him, _force_ him to love him, whether or not he truly did, and regardless of the punishments he would have to bestow in store.

He watched as Ryou was thrown back by Bakura, watched as Ryou simply smiled at the thief's rough attitude, and watched in growing hatred as Ryou looked back and saw Bakura's bare back. Something within Marik suddenly stirred at seeing Ryou gaping at someone else's bare back…that gaze in Ryou's eyes…wide and unaware, innocent and naïve…

Marik gritted his teeth. Please. How could anyone like looking at _Bakura's_ back? At least Marik's scars were nicely adorned, whereas Bakura's were obviously from continuous whipping.

He slithered away as Ryou began to head off in his direction, holding the robe close to himself, a dreamy smile still on his face. Marik narrowed his eyes, their amethyst shade piercing and cold in the darkness as he slid into a nearby tree, hidden beneath the curtains of green. If anything, Ryou didn't seemed to have noticed; in fact, he was humming to himself merrily, the dreamy gaze still on his face.

The stifled rage within Marik reared again, desperate to break through his self-control, desperate to release its wrath on its victim. But since Marik would not allow his rage to screw up his plans until the opportune moment, the rage within him tried to convince him, sent him images of the days that he planned to come.

A sudden image of Ryou beneath him, bound and gagged, his face against the mattress, assaulted Marik's vision. Those pain-filled cries echoed in his ears, and his skin prickled at the sensation of feeling those tender and soft legs again, tempting him, coaxing him.

But he would wait. Yes, he would wait. And until then…

_Well, _he thought, as he slipped through the leaves and began to follow his lover home, _we'll see._

* * *

"Morning Marik!" Ryou greeted cheerfully, a wide grin on his face.

There behind him stood the Egyptian, clad in his repute outfit of black. Though his pitch-dark cloak was veiling most of his body, Ryou knew that he was also wearing black silk sarong, embroidered with gold strands and clasped at the waist with a strong and gold belt.

After the sun had dawned, Ryou had returned home, only to find that Marik had gotten up as well. The Egyptian made no move to explain where he was or what he was doing, but it was all right with Ryou. Marik had always been mysterious.

The conversation about Marik's eyes had really enraptured Ryou's thoughts on the way home. Never before had he smiled so much; the simple thought of Marik's amethyst pupils brought a loving smile to Ryou's face, and on the entire way home, he had sighed and smiled dreamily to himself, still thinking deeply about Marik's eyes.

Oh, how Ryou loved being in love!

How his heart would race, would pump at the mention of Marik's name…how his breath would be caught at the simple touch of Marik's fingers…how his mind would spin and his heart would leap at the thought of being in Marik's arms.

Oh, how Ryou loved being in love!

"Morning," Marik replied, though his voice seemed to be somewhat flat. His expression was solemn, as usual, cold amethyst eyes sharp and hard. His stance was rigid and stern, menacing and ominous. But Ryou had long gotten used to that presence, as Marik had often worn that same expression and withheld that same stance when he and Ryou first met upon the Battle City blimp.

Ryou returned the greeting with his normal, cheerful smile, cocking his head to the side and stretching. "How are you today?" he asked.

"Perfectly fine," Marik said brusquely, watching discretely as Ryou coughed a couple of times into his hand. When his little coughing fit was over, Ryou looked up at Marik again, his smile somewhat tired.

"Have a good sleep?" Ryou asked, yawning cutely.

Marik nodded curtly. "You?" he asked, his voice slightly cool.

Ryou nodded his head, white-haired head bobbing adorably as he wrinkled his nose. Despite his cheeks were slightly flushed, and his eyes looked rather watery, he nodded again, and said, still smiling, "Yes, thank you." Looking up, Ryou smiled brightly again, looking somewhat mesmerized as he stared deep into Marik's eyes. "You're really…handsome…Marik…" he breathed, in awe.

Marik merely regarded his lover coolly, turning away slightly. "Oh really?"

Ryou nodded. "Of course," he whispered, his voice still in awe. He moved forwards, his arms wrapping around Marik's neck in a loving embrace. "I love you."

Suddenly, Marik moved away from the embrace, his hands taking Ryou's wrists tightly in their grasps. Blinking, Ryou cocked his head to one side in confusion, staring up at Marik quizzically.

"I have a better idea of what we could do," Marik said, watching Ryou intently. For a moment, Ryou winced, unable to help himself.

For a moment…a single moment…there was something about Marik's gaze that frightened him, even if it was just for a moment. Perhaps it was the fire that was lit behind them, just like they were when he had first left Ryou on the blimp, and locked him in his room. But Ryou brushed it away, his heart knowing full well that Marik loved him, and that nothing could ever come between them. After all, Marik had come back…Marik had kept his promise…and Ryou knew that there was something truly magical between them, that he'd cherish forever.

Slowly, Marik led Ryou to the bed again, slowly forcing him to sit. Again, Ryou cocked his head to the side quizzically, wondering what Marik wanted to do again.

His question was answered, however, when Marik slowly began to crawl on the bed himself, gradually pushing Ryou onto his back, until the point where Marik was entirely straddling Ryou's hips. For a moment, Ryou's eyes widened, before he gave out an embarrassed, half-hearted giggle.

"Again, Marik?" he whispered. "Must we?"

"Of course," Marik replied, his hands slowly raising Ryou's wrists above his head. "What else is there to do?"

"Well," Ryou said, feeling somewhat reluctant, "we could…you know…go out…walk around…maybe we can even go to the market place. It'd be great if we could go there and eat…they had this great fish I saw when I first came here, I'm sure it's delicious…"

"Like you," Marik breathed, slipping out from his cloak. He stretched a bit, one hand slowly slithering up Ryou's side, causing the young Light to shudder. Ryou took a deep breath and swallowed.

"Well…at the very least…" Ryou whispered, biting his lip as Marik began to discard the Light's garments, "…couldn't we do this later? I mean, you know I'm tired, Marik…we've been doing this for so long already, couldn't we just take a break?"

"No," was Marik's simple and blunt reply, finally ridding Ryou of his garments, drinking in his gorgeous bare form. The same hand that had slithered up Ryou's side then flicked over to one of his upright nipples, before proceeding to twist it harshly.

A sharp gasp escaped Ryou's throat, and instantly, the small Light arched his back, unintentionally arousing Marik further. A moan then escaped Ryou's throat again, and he began to writhe a bit, half desperation, and half in complaint.

"Marik…please, must we?" Ryou gasped, as the same hand then gave the other nipple the same treatment. "I'm so tired already, Marik, and I really don't feel so well. My head's kind of dizzy, and my lungs…"

"Quit complaining," Marik breathed, a smirk appearing on his face. He bent down, nuzzling Ryou's nose with his. "I know you want this. You want this, don't you?"

"N-No, not really," Ryou gasped again, arching his back and tossing his head from side to side. "No, come on, Marik, can't we just spend some time together? You and I haven't even talked that much to each other at all since we've gotten together, and I really honestly don't feel well…"

"Aw," Marik whispered, his lips kissing Ryou's chest. "Pity. I thought you loved me enough to do this for me."

"Well, of course I love you," Ryou gasped, swallowing again. "I mean, I'd do anything for you…"

"Then do this for me," Marik breathed, finally discarding his sarong and slowly binding Ryou's wrists with it. Finally immobilized, Ryou sighed in defeat, making a small face at his new bindings.

Smirking, Marik brought his hands to Ryou's face, directing the Light to look straight at the Darkness.

"For me?" he breathed. "Don't you trust me?"

For a moment, Ryou's eyes widened slightly, uncertainty twinkling in his eyes. But as he gazed deeply into his lover's eyes…his lover's enrapturing, pleading amethyst eyes…Ryou could not help but trust Marik completely, and finally, submitted to defeat.

"Alright," Ryou breathed, nodding. In his heart, he felt certain, knowing that Marik would take care not to hurt him, to lead him along. "For you." Closing his eyes, Ryou raised himself a bit, his lips softly embracing Marik's in a simple, loving kiss. "I trust you."

With a smirk, Marik pried open Ryou's lips, plunging his tongue in with reckless abandon. His hands roamed over Ryou's land of alabaster skin, feeling them tremble beneath his grasp. As he left Ryou's mouth, dotting wet kisses along the Light's jaw, Ryou gasped again, closing his eyes in content. Marik…for that name alone, Ryou would do anything for. Even though he did not like romping so much, and even though there would things he would prefer to do than being in bed all the time, for Marik, he'd do anything. As long as Marik was happy, Ryou was happy, and for a single moment, Ryou felt complete. Full and complete.

Marik would never hurt him. They trusted one another. He had never broken a promise, or intentionally hurt him. And Ryou, in return, would never to such a thing, his only existence to be Marik's love, to be Marik's light, to be Marik's comfort.

"I love you, Marik," Ryou whispered.

And yet, strangely enough, Marik did not reply.

* * *

"There you are," Malik said, as he guided his horse towards the left. The figure he had been talking to turned about, revealing familiar, narrow deep brown eyes. Malik smiled. "And what might you be doing on this bright and sunny day, Yami-Baku-sama?"

"Don't say my name in the middle of daylight," Bakura hissed back, though a short smile graced his lips. "Are you out of your mind?"

"Not really, no," Malik laughed, as he forced his horse to stride up next to Bakura's. "I was just wondering what you were doing in daylight, if obviously you can't steal."

"I like a challenge," said Bakura casually, smirking somewhat. Malik laughed again.

"Would you like to skip out on the challenge then," he asked casually, "and hang out with me?"  
For a moment, Bakura blinked, his smirk growing slightly more wicked. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

A sweet, innocent smile in return. "And what if I am?" Malik asked, his lavender eyes twinkling mischievously. Bakura's wicked smirk promptly turned into a sinister grin.

"Well…" he said loudly, steering his black spur in front of Malik's, so the other could not ride away, "…if it's not a challenge, why would I accept?"

Lavender eyes glittered, and just faintly, a smirk graced Malik's own features.

"Well then," he said, pausing for effect, eyes locking onto Bakura's, "challenge _this._" And with that, the younger Egyptian yanked hard on his reins, and with a loud, rearing neigh, both rider and horse bolted off in the other direction, golden sands clouding behind him. A wave of the hand told Bakura the challenge, and the thief, with a wide and wicked smirk, accepted.

Both horses raced across the gold plains, kicking yellow dust and clouds of sands into the air, at almost neck-breaking rapid speed. Pale cream whipped about after the first mahogany horse, blood red flapping after the night-black second. Cries of playful threats echoed into the air, in tune and melody with the rhythmic, rapid thudding of the hooves.

Looking back, Malik grinned, seeing the thief gain speed behind him. With a lurch, he threw his horse sharply towards the left, in attempt to trick Bakura off course in his chase.

However, the thief was far too skilled for this, and, with a careful, calculating gaze, the thief had steered his horse also towards the left. However, that wasn't al he was planning.

Long before Malik had even come to the decision of changing course, Bakura had eyed a large, unfinished and abandoned half of a pyramid, it's crumbling stones still stable and strong. A few good tens of meters tall and strong, it would make an excellent jump-off, and that's what Bakura had in mind as he steered his horse up the makeshift ramp.

"Ha! You can't catch me!" Malik yelled triumphantly behind him.

"We'll see about that!" Bakura yelled back, his horse already climbing rapidly up the diagonal ascend of the pyramid. "You just keep running!"

"You'll never catch me!" Malik yelled, laughing, and kicked his heels against the horse's side.

Bakura chuckled, his horse finally about to reach the top of the manmade precipice.

"Watch me," he whispered. With a loud battle cry of triumph, the horse finally leaped into the air, black mane flashing past against the white-hot circle of sun. For a moment, all seemed still, the wind slitting past Bakura's bangs, revealing his dark brown eyes, focused triumphantly upon the oblivious form of Malik beneath.

Though the second was an eternity, it seemed to snap by in an instant, and as the horse was about to land, Bakura curled skillfully into a ball, and leapt high into the air, his body soaring through the sky and past the Egyptian sun.

But what goes up must come down, and without further ado, Bakura deftly flipped through the air, so that his feet and legs were directly above Malik's spur, and with careful and perfect and minute calculation, the thief landed onto his prey's spur, right behind Malik.

"H-Haah!" Malik cried out in surprise, shocked to feel the jerking pressure beneath him as the horse bucked up with its newly arrived passenger. He looked behind him, his eyes wide and shocked. "Bakura?"

Bakura sent him a cheeky grin. "Told you I'd catch you," he said smugly, and without further ado, wrapped his arms around Malik's waist, grabbing the horse's reins from the Keeper's hands, and taking them into his. Malik cried out in surprise again.

"Bakura!"

"Want another challenge?" the thief grinned, jerking the reins back. "Well, I'm up for it!"

* * *

Sighing, Marik opened his eyes, his arms cushioning his head comfortably from behind. Next to him, breathing somewhat raggedly, even in his sleep, lay Ryou, exhausted and weary. Though the Light had both his arms wrapped around Marik's waist and was resting his head on Marik's chest, the Darkness did not return the favor, merely keeping his hands to himself, showing absolutely no show of affections.

Not that Ryou had the energy to question him about it, anyways. If what Marik had done truly was too much for Ryou to handle, the Light would probably be unconscious until late evening. And even after Ryou would awaken, he would still have the issue of being physically immobilized…partly because his wrists were still loosely bonded, and partly because of the blood that was flowing down his thighs.

Slowly, an evil smirk crept across Marik's features, as visions of their last few hours flashed before his eyes. Ryou squirming beneath him, Ryou crying out his pleasure, Ryou begging for release…oh, how Marik had savored each moment, drinking in each plead, each beg, as though nectar of sweet, sadistic ambrosia.

And oh, the best part of it all…was when Ryou begged, and when Ryou pleaded, and when Ryou _cried _beneath him, begging him for mercy and release. How, in some distorted illusion between them, Ryou had thought Marik was being kind and loving, expressing his care and affection through seduction, when really, Marik was punishing him, twisting him, torturing him for his betrayal.

_Cry for me!_ he would yell. _Beg! You want your release? Beg!_

_Please! _Ryou would cry back, _please! Make it stop!_

_You like it, don't you? You like it!_

_Y-Yes! _Ryou would cry again, his voice lined with high desperation. _P-please! Make it stop!_

And yes, how Marik would then make everything 'stop'. How Marik would make everything feel 'better'. Oh yes…just 'peachy.'

By the gods, Ryou was so naïve. So foolish and so naïve. No one in their right minds would trust Marik, must less love Marik. How could he, Marik himself…be so foolish? There was no one in this world who would ever care for him…no one. How could he have ever fallen for the idea that Ryou had loved him? No one cared for _Marik._

And now, there Ryou laid, his eyes resting shut, his breathing quiet yet ragged, both arms wrapped tightly around Marik's waist in a warm embrace. By the gods, merely _looking _at Ryou even made Marik sick. That innocent, sweet face, those soft, tempting arms…how Marik had once mistaken such things for love would forever be inconceivable.

As Marik learned from his own experience, there was simply no love in this world. There were no such things as Friendship, Compassion, or Love. There was only Hatred, Anger, Greed, and Deception.

_((How you once deceived me))_

Oh, how Marik's heart filled with rage right then and there, that very instant. How Ryou's mere _presence _brought Marik rage and anger, smothering him with radiating sweetness that the Darkness felt like gagging.

_((And yet you believed in me))_

There was no possible way, that all the times that they had spent together were reality. There was just no possible way. How could Ryou have done all that…worried over him, cared for him, even _slept _with him, if there was no other motive? No doubt Ryou perhaps was just lonely…in need for company…_any _company…and Marik was just the first to come along.

_((There were times when there were _

_Nothing else))_

Marik shook his head._ He never really loved me, _he thought to himself. _He just wanted my protection. He just wanted me to help him keep safe from Bakura. That's all he wanted. Why else would anyone fall in love with someone as treacherous as me?_

_((Except your love, your care))_

_There's no way he could've cared for me, _Marik thought to himself. _No way. There's nothing good in this world. The entire world is just a pile…a pile of betrayal. Deception. Greed. No one as sweet as him could…can…survive in a world like this. _

_((And yet, you never hid them well))_

_Parasite,_ Marik hissed mentally.

_((Pretending and deceiving _

_I saw them all))_

_I need to get away from here,_ Marik thought angrily. Getting up, he roughly threw Ryou's arms from around his waist. The Light mumbled something, whined about something, before settling again. Growling, Marik dressed himself quickly and briefly. He couldn't stay here anymore. He would taint Ryou's innocence with hatred if he had to, but later.

Of course, there were times when he loved Ryou this innocent and naïve…all the more fragile to break later. But at times like these…it was simply too sickening for Marik to handle. Too pure for someone as dark as him. Too Good.

Grabbing his cloak, he realized something.

He couldn't take it anymore.

He couldn't stand Ryou's feign of innocence any longer. Pretending that he still cared, pretending that he still loved Marik…what a disgusting, sniveling little fake.

Shaking his head furiously, Marik left the room storming, his rage and anger boiling up full-throttle. Red blossomed before his eyes, and before he even realized it, he was no longer human.

Hatred and Rage had taken over, and, although Marik knew none of it, the Shadows within him had conquered his mind. No longer could he think rationally, no longer could he think properly. No longer had he a mind of his own, a control of his own. Everything was in the swift, murderous decisions of his Shadow-induced heart and mind, controlling his raging rivers of blood.

_((Don't think you can betray me_

_Don't think you can lie to me))_

So Ryou thought he could hurt Marik by playing with him so? _Well,_ Marik smirked, _two can play at that game._

_((Because I'll play just as dirty))_

Blinded by incomprehensible and unimaginable rage and suppressed wrath, Marik swiftly left the labyrinth, walking into the evening sun. The flying cellar doors spread their wings of furious wind, urging him on his quest for vengeance.

However, as Marik stepped out into the dying sun, a part of him…a sane part of him…remembered something.

_"You're worth more than all the sunsets in the world."_

Yes…that day…that day when he had given everything he could for Ryou…to make Ryou feel better…for a moment, Marik stopped in his tracks, his eyes glazing softly into lavender as he recalled that heavenly day.

_"If it makes you smile, then I should have."_

The locket. Yes…the locket. The locket he had given to Ryou, the one that once belonged to…

Angrily, Marik shook his head. He would not remember that day. That day had been a fluke, a fake. That day had just been a reminder of how weak he used to be, thinking about other people's _feelings _before his own.

Bracing himself, Marik straightened tall, and walked into the night.

_((And then you'll know))_

Someone was going to die tonight.

_((Why you should hate me.))_

* * *

Please give me some (a lot ) of reviews for my b-day! Please? Please? (hopeful eyes) More than ten? I know this is acutally a really boring chapter, but it's an excellent chapter for rising climax. I promise you, the next one will be so action-packed and sad...well..er...angry sad. You know, frustration-sad.

Please READ AND REVIEW!


	13. Brotherhood and Betrayal

Chapter Thirteen: Brotherhood and Betrayal

Groaning, Ryou blinked his eyes open. At first, his vision was fuzzed, blurred at the edges, but as he slowly regained his consciousness, his vision slowly came back into focus. After stretching for a moment and wincing at his sore body, he suddenly realized something. His eyes shot open, and he froze.

Marik was not in the bed.

For a moment, Ryou couldn't help but hyperventilate, memories of the last time Marik had left without saying a word flashing before his eyes. Forcing himself to calm down, Ryou took a deep breath, steadying himself. It was no big deal, right? Right? Surely Marik had been considerate enough to at least leave a note…

As though surged with sudden bolt of energy, Ryou scrambled about for a moment, desperately looking for a note. Perhaps Marik was simply outside, maintaining some hygiene business. Maybe Marik was just outside the door, chewing on some breakfast. Maybe…just maybe…

There was no note.

Depressively disheartened, Ryou slumped his shoulders, well aware of his sore back and his flaming backside. Marik…wasn't there…

Ryou had always had a sixth sense for his lover. Ever since that day on the blimp, when he and Marik had argued and Marik had left…ever since that day, Ryou had developed a sort of sense of awareness, a warning, prickling sensation every time something was wrong with his lover.

And even though Ryou knew Marik was perfectly fine and perfectly capable of taking care of himself, the Light couldn't help but wince a bit in anxiety. Where was Marik?

Why hadn't he stayed with Ryou?

Frowning a bit, Ryou swept his legs over the side of the bed, wincing at the pain in his rear. His wrists were lined with a faint, purple color where the sarong and scarves had been tightened too tight, and his back was aching most terribly. In his state, why hadn't Marik stayed to at least ask him if he was alright?  
Didn't Marik care?

_What…but what if…_Ryou thought anxiously, shaking his head from side to side in effort to find his lover, as though hoping Marik was simply hiding behind a closet, …_what if he's not alright…what if he's gone?_

Ryou hated the loneliness. And simply the mere thought of his love leaving him forever…the thought was too much to bear. He needed to be with…he needed to be with Marik…he _had_ to! Should they ever be forever separated, Ryou would have no idea what he'd do.

No. Ryou knew what he'd do if Marik left him forever.

He would die.

He wouldn't be able to stand the loneliness again, not after his second chance with Marik. He wouldn't be able to stand the fact that Fate would take his lover again, right before his eyes, tearing his love away from him. Fate had done that four times already…once more, and Ryou knew he would not survive the emotional crisis that lay ahead, waiting to claim him and devour his very soul.

_I have to find him,_ Ryou thought determinedly. _I just have to. Something's wrong. I know something is. His eyes…they were different tonight. Something's bothering him. Something's wrong. I just know it. _

Gritting his teeth and biting his lip, Ryou heaved himself upwards. Flame scorched up his back from his rear, crackling up his spine and tormenting his brain with pain. He winced, whimpering, falling back onto the bed. No. He couldn't rest now. Something was wrong with Marik. He just knew it.

Taking a deep breath, Ryou heaved himself up again, this time succeeding in standing upon shaking legs. In fact, he thought, if he were to concentrate on something else, the pain would seem to lessen, as though fading away. Determination refreshed and hopes escalating, Ryou bit his lip again, succeeding in walking perfectly fine. Slowly, the pain ebbed away, despite the crimson river that was slowly trickling down his thigh.

_Please Marik,_ Ryou thought, his hands finding his sarong and draping it about his waist, _please. Please be alright. I will find you. I promise I will. _

* * *

"Goodbye Bakura!" Malik called cheerfully, waving his hand in departure. The thief before him rose upright in his stirrups, a crooked grin on his face. 

"Going to be sore tonight?" asked Bakura cheekily, drawing out his chest smugly. Malik laughed ruefully, rubbing the back of his neck. Turning around, he mounted his own horse, faint torn linen cloths fluttering in the wind.

"We'll see," Malik grinned. "You?"

Bakura snorted, making an obvious "Feh" noise. "Me? Sore? Never. I heal fast."

Malik's grinned remained. "I know."

Slowly, both their stirrups trotted closer together. In turn, each rider's face gradually softened. Warm lavender eyes met equally soft brown ones, and for a while, even Bakura's wide, cheeky grin had relaxed into a soft, simple smile.

Gradually, slowly, steadily, the horses came to the point where they were side by side, and so were their riders. And gradually, slowly, and just as steadily, the lips of the two riders met. Soft silky skin brushed past petal-smooth ones, clasping among them in tenderness and fondness. Both pairs of lashes fluttered shut, and for a moment, time quieted down, and stilled for a minute's worth of eternity.

And just as gradually, and just as slowly and steadily, the two riders drew apart, eyes slowly fluttering open. Light lavender ones looked dazed and dreamy, while dark brown ones were smooth with content and peace. A small smile slowly made its way upon Malik's features, and Bakura returned it with a small one of his own.

"I love you," Malik whispered. Bakura nodded, his small smile still upon his face.

"I love you too," the thief whispered back. Gently, he raised his hand towards Malik's face, softly intertwining the golden strands among his fingers. "Goodnight."

Tenderly closing his eyes, Malik nodded, his cheek leaning onto Bakura's hand in a loving, tender manner. "Take care, Bakura," he whispered.

The thief nodded, finally withdrawing his hand from Malik's soft satin cheek. "I will."

Smile forming rapidly into a sunny grin, Malik turned his spur towards the dying sun, heading off in the direction of the underground labyrinth. Bakura's spur directed itself in the other direction, but it did not stop him from gazing back at Malik's retreating form one last time.

For a while, Bakura merely sat there, his black horse still against the hills of sand. For a while he merely watched…watched as his reclaimed lover faded into the golden rays of the dying sun, until he was merely a black speck among a vast, sinking sphere of gold. And even that, for a while, Bakura merely sat there, watching as the darkness claimed the sinking star, and swept across the sky with its velvet drape.

Sighing softly to himself, Bakura finally withdrew from his gazing. Still in a romanticizing gaze, he lightly kicked his heels against the horse's side, directing it towards his home in the mountain. The entire day had been a perfect….a perfect mix of Malik, danger, love and fluff. And Bakura would have liked nothing more than to end such a wondrous day with an equally wondrous sleep.

Even though he would never care to admit it aloud, chasing Malik and jumping off tall, half-finished pyramids had taken some toll on his already beaten back. Not that they were terribly painful…merely an annoying sore. If Bakura were to steal tomorrow again, he'd need to get that back into shape again. And plus…those soldier-like shadows in the horizon didn't look quite friendly either….and neither the faint, familiar silhouette of Ryou. In fact…the soldiers seemed to be approaching Ryou…who seemed to have difficulty escaping…

Sighing exasperatedly, Bakura headed his horse in that direction. Normally, he would've left Ryou to defend for himself, but if Malik or Marik ever found out, Bakura knew that he'd have two Ishtals hot for his hide.

And, although Bakura would never admit it…ever since he and Ryou had had that discussion about their pasts…they seemed to breach a rather friendly air, something that Bakura had not felt since the first time he had met Ryou face-to-face. And although aloud Bakura despised it, deep inside, he couldn't help but appreciate the fact that he and Ryou were finally getting along. Now that he had his own body, Ryou didn't seem like such a weakling to cope with.

Sighing, Bakura kicked his heels against his spur, and dashed off into towards the horizon.

_He better not be in too much trouble…_ Bakura grumbled to himself.

* * *

Squinting, Malik leaned forward on his spur. Strange. For a moment, he could've sworn that he had seen a familiar, spiked-haired silhouette… 

Discreetly, a feeling of dread curled up within his chest, and narrowing his eyes, Malik reared his horse, and galloped towards the shadow. As the sun finally disappeared beneath the horizon and the night had spread its wings across the sky, Malik managed to reach the spiked-haired shadow, and gasped when he saw who it was.

"Leave, Malik," Marik hissed, not turning around.

The other Ishtal's mouth dropped, his eyes widened. "Y-You…" Malik stammered, curiosity and annoyance flaring within him. "What are you doing here?" he demanded, regaining composure.

The darker Ishtal did not turn about. "Leave," Marik hissed again.

Narrowing his eyes suspiciously, and boldly, Malik then drove his spur around Marik, abruptly stopping the yami in his tracks.

"What are you doing here?" Malik demanded again, staring at Marik with scrutinizing eyes. "Where are you off to?"

"Must you Lights always be so inquisitive?" Marik asked irritably, his dark, narrowed eyes finally flickering up to face Malik's in a dangerous glare. The other Ishtal merely returned the look evenly, not at all fazed by his darker half's current attitude.

"Where's Ryou?" Malik asked coldly.

At this, Marik's eyes flickered dangerously, and instantly, Malik saw the fire behind them rear and cackle. The taken-aback Light gasped, his horse stepping back and stamping its hooves nervously. Hastily regaining composure, Malik narrowed his eyes again.

"Where's Ryou?" he asked again daringly. "He's always with you. Shouldn't you be with him?"

Marik's eyes narrowed further, becoming hateful slits. "Don't speak to me of him," he snarled shortly. "And if you know what's good for you, my pathetic little host, you'd best mind your own business rather than mine."

At this, Malik shook his head. "No. Something's wrong. I haven't seen you this pissed in ages. In fact, I've never seen you this pissed. You're always ranting about being Anger, Darkness and Hatred and Vengeance all at once, but never…never ever…had I seen you truly and actually angry."

"And if you keep on blabbing," Marik snarled, "I'll change from angry to murderous. Just LEAVE, for Ra's sake, Malik!"

"No," Malik replied flatly. "No. I can see something's wrong, and as much as I hate to come to this conclusion…I think it's Ryou."

There was a moment of silence in which Marik gritted his teeth, his fists clenching and unclenching in attempt to calm himself down. However, this failed miserably and he shot his glare at Malik with intense hatred, his amethyst eyes burning hellfire within them.

"Don't you DARE speak his name to me," Marik snarled. Malik cocked his head to one side, still unfazed, but suspicious of his former darker half's sudden ferocity.

"Oh?" he taunted, gripping the reins in effort to control himself from launching at Marik, "why not? I thought he was your _love. _Your one and only _true _love."

"Malik…" Marik's tone was warning now, a dangerous sign. But Malik heeded on, his stubbornness and suspicion larger than his fear.

"So…you're alone out here," Malik said loudly, "without your love, whom you claim to love with all your heart and protection, and yet, here you are, alone. May I even have the liberty to guess that you did not even leave your precious love a note?""

"And what would it matter?" Marik snapped harshly. "I want nothing to do with him!"

"I thought so," Malik said even louder, overriding Marik's voice. "I knew it. I knew Ryou was too pathetic for you. Nothing can please you, can it? By the GODS, Marik!" Malik bellowed. "What are you doing here, on the verge of dumping Ryou? Last I looked, you were positively all over him!"

"And if you haven't noticed, idiot Light," Marik yelled even louder, "last you checked was when we first appeared here! Such a weak, simple-minded Light such as yourself shouldn't bother meddling in affairs like this. Go screw Bakura! In fact, go now! Screw him one last time before I destroy him into nothingness!"

Malik blinked, suddenly ceasing speech. When his mouth was working again, he shook his head, as though clearing his mind of what he just heard.

"What?" he repeated.

Marik sent him a hard glare. "Go to Bakura," the Darkness said slowly, as one would say to a moron, "and tell him that he if he wants to spend the rest of his life in happiness, he better screw you one last time before I destroy him."

"But why would you want to destroy Bakura any longer?" Malik asked, looking confused. "He's done nothing wrong!"  
"Tell that to the other lover-boy in my bed," Marik snarled bitterly. Again, Malik blinked.

"What, Bakura did something to Ryou?" he asked, oblivious.

Heaving a deep breath, Marik forced himself to remain calm. After a few moments of contemplative thought, he coldly turned away from his former host.

"I have nothing to say to you," he hissed.

"Of course you do," Malik snapped. "I am Ryou's friend, and more a friend to him than you will ever be. Despite what you rant about, I know you never cared for Ryou, even though he loves you with all his heart right back. So as his friend, I must know what's going on."

"Then open your eyes a bit, won't you?" Marik bellowed, sending Malik a spitting look. "Forget it, Malik. Forget all I ever said about caring for Ryou. He's nothing! He's nothing but a cheating, lying, sniveling, cowardly snake in the grass! Do you hear me!"

Taken harshly aback, Malik's mouth dropped open, his eyes flashing anger and aghast disbelief.

"Ryou…_what?_" Malik breathed, still in disbelief. "_What?_ Marik, what on earth are you saying? Ryou's never been like that in his entire _life!_ Marik, he's a _hikari!_ He's known for his compassion and his care and his naivety! How could you possibly think that he's a cheating, lying, cowardly snake in the grass?"

"Because he is," Marik snapped back. "He is. He's no better than Bakura. Have you realized, dear Malik, that in the times in which you don't spend with Bakura, he and Ryou are probably screwing each other like hell? Or are you still too smitten with your beloved thief king to realize that he's nothing but a worthless cheat?"

"YOU'RE a worthless cheat!" Malik yelled, losing all control of his temper completely. "Don't you DARE say such things about Bakura like that! And Ryou too! How DARE you! Neither Bakura nor Ryou would ever…EVER…do such a thing as cheat on the ones they care for! ESPECIALLY Ryou!"

"Don't you DARE talk to me that way!" Marik roared right back. "You…you sniveling, pathetic, naïve little fool called a lighter half…you have NO idea what it means to someone such as me if Ryou should ever betray me. I am MARIK. I ALWAYS get what I want! And if one defies me such as Ryou has, then he will have to face my wrath as a consequence!"

"But…but…RYOU!" Malik yelled, still in shock. "Ryou! Think of it, Marik! RYOU! He's the LEAST likely person to betray you! Marik, he's in _love_ with you! Love is everything that Ryou stands for! And Bakura! By the gods, Marik, he's no different! And by RA, Marik, what the hell were you thinking? Bakura and Ryou…together? Inconceivable! They hate each other!"

"Obviously they don't," Marik retorted, his voice lined with bitter hatred. "Scurrying away like cowards at night, hugging each other passionately…if you had seen, Malik, you would've felt the same anger that I feel now. Ryou is mine, and mine alone! He KNOWS that! And he DEFIED me! ME! Marik Ishtal!"

"By the gods, Marik, IT IS NOT ALWAYS ABOUT YOU!" Malik bellowed. "Bakura and Ryou may not hate each other as much as we hate each other, but they would never, EVER become lovers like you are suggesting! Ryou is faithful. He is passionate. He is the very picture of angelic love! If Bakura were to ever even take him by _force, _Marik, you would've known!"

"And I DO know," Marik retorted coldly. "They were embracing one another as though lovers, Malik. In fact, Ryou could not even desert his dreamy, dazed look from his eyes. And he did not even say a word to me about it in the morning! Tell me, Malik, has Bakura mentioned anything about Ryou at all today?"

"Of course not," Malik snapped, somewhat matter-of-factly. "If Bakura and Ryou did embrace one another, it was still an embrace. Nothing more. And Bakura's ego and pride is just as big as yours, Marik! Would YOU have stalked about in the morn yapping about how your lighter half hugged you? Of course not! Marik, think of what you're _saying,_" Malik pleaded. His voice had suddenly changed; it's pitch now low, pleading, desperate. "Ryou could never have betrayed you. If he did hug Bakura, which I can imagine Ryou doing if Bakura was in a good mood to receive it…Ryou would never had had the guts to tell you! He knows how jealous you are! He knew that if he told you that he had been with Bakura, you would've reacted like you are now! Marik, for once in your Ra-damned life, THINK!"

"Why don't YOU!" Marik bellowed. Suddenly, all his pent-up anger began to flow, beating in torrents of boiling rivers within his veins. His entire body seemed to pulse with indescribable rage, radiating from him as though poisonous waves. "LEAVE, Malik! NOW! I KNEW you would not understand!" Suddenly, Marik strode up to Malik, and with one, swift, deftly swing, he managed to grab the front of Malik's robes and the amethyst necklace, drawing his Light to the point where they were face to face.

Gritting his teeth, Malik swallowed, his eyes still wide with wariness and warning. The necklace was tightly within Marik's grip, and Ra knew… if Marik were to break that necklace…!

The Darkness gripped tighter even still, his eyes nearly narrow slits of burning amethyst. "Here me this now," he whispered, "that those who stand in my way of dominance will suffer, Malik. Tonight, I will show Ryou the meaning of being my lover in the worst way possible. He will feel nothing but pain and agony, as well as your dear lover, Bakura, to the point where mercy is music to my ears. And even then…"

At this, Marik leaned in closer, his eyes flashing dangerously still, "…I will not stop. I will not cease. I will not surrender to this light that lives within Ryou. If anything, I will extinguish it, spitting upon its last flicker of hope with all my Hatred and Vengeance!"

With that said, Marik roughly pushed Malik away, proceeding in the Light almost being knocked off his horse. Panting heavily, Malik pushed himself upright on his horse again, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. However, his eyes never left Marik's, and even after he had regained his composure, his lavender eyes remained boring into Marik's cold, hard, amethyst ones.

"Fine," Malik hissed. "But Marik…don't think that I'm as weak as you think I am. I didn't get to become Bakura's lover for being weak. And I didn't become Ryou's closest friend for being pathetic. If I see one bruise, one cut upon Ryou's skin at _all, _I will NEVER FORGIVE YOU!" This Malik bellowed, his hatred and anger pouring out and lashing itself upon his darker side. "Even IF Ryou ever forgives you for what you have planned, I WILL NEVER! I only gave you this chance to be civil only because Ryou begged me to! But if I see one scratch, one bruise upon Ryou's skin, I will personally see to it that both Bakura and Yami and myself will tear your hide alive and burn it to Ra! Do you hear me!"

"Meaningless threats," Marik snapped lowly. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Malik." Closing his eyes unfazed, Marik turned around, and began walking again towards the mountains. "Go home, Malik," Marik called, his stance rigid and cold against he night air. "Go home. Go warn Bakura if you will…it'd make everything all the more fun. I always like a challenge."

And with that, Marik disappeared into the darkness of the night, leaving a distraught, panting Malik at a loss at what to do.

* * *

"Blasted soldiers!" Bakura cursed, looking back over the cliff edge. Normally, he would've had tremendous fun teasing the guards at their pathetic lack of skills, but after one equally tremendous day with Malik, guards seemed to just ruin the mood. 

"Bakura-sama!" Ryou cried behind him. The tomb robber turned about just in time to see his former lighter half slide fractionally down the cliff edge, his pale fingers digging desperately into the dirt in effort to hold on. "Bakura-sama!"

"Clumsy, idiot hikari," Bakura muttered, one hand grabbing one of Ryou's wrists. "Shut up, will you? You want the guards to find you now, after all that trouble I went through to save you?"

"Well, they didn't look very friendly," Ryou mumbled. "But why did you do it?"

With a grunt, Bakura heaved the other up onto the ledge roughly. "Malik was near. If he saw you, and if I hadn't gone over and helped you, he would've been on my ass, and Marik too."

"Marik and Malik are your reasons for everything," Ryou muttered exasperatedly, dusting himself off and catching his breath. "Oh well. At least it's good to see you considering Malik's feelings enough to save me once in a while. I'm forever in your debt, Yami-sama."

"Don't give me that crap," Bakura snapped crudely. "I'm not anything noble and good, got that?"

Nodding, Ryou winced, poking ruefully at his arm, which bore a large bruise, straight from Bakura in effort to make Ryou run faster. "Of course you're' not," Ryou said dryly.

Taking a deep breath, Bakura straightened, beginning to walk up the pathway towards the cave. "Touchy today, aren't you, hikari?"

"Not really," Ryou replied, wincing as he stood up. "Just having difficulty finding Marik, that's all. I can't go anywhere without someone looking at me weird."

"And attempting to stone you?" asked Bakura dryly. "Because that's those guards were planning to do. They've got nothing else to do at this time of night…plenty want to go to sleep. Nothing like a sip of injustice fun in the middle of the night, where no one could see."

"That's not nice," Ryou said, frowning. Bakura let out a harsh bark of laughter, but did not protest when Ryou followed him up the pathway.

"You think these guards are nice, hikari?" Bakura laughed again. "Think again. What were you doing out, anyways? It's common sense not to go out in the middle of the night. Midnight stroll again?"

"It's not midnight! It's barely past evening!" Ryou protested, though a faint smile was on his face. "And I was just trying to find Marik…"

A wicked glint flashed in Bakura's eyes, though it looked cheekier than his usual devious stare. "Oh? May I presume that's why you were limping from the guards rather than running?"

At this, Ryou turned pink. "That's none of your business!"

Bakura laughed. "_Someone _got laid…" the thief sang childishly. Again, Ryou blushed, his pink-tinted face rapidly turning into a growing red.

"Bakura-sama! Don't be so immature!"

The thief merely grinned, but did not say anything. Turning a corner, both of them entered the cave entrance, Ryou stumbling because of his aching backside. Gasping with pain, he sat himself down on a nearby rock near the entrance, as so not to intrude Bakura on his unspoken hospitality.

However, the thief noticed Ryou's weariness, and instantly grew suspicious.

"Got laid hard, didn't you?" Bakura drawled, as Ryou clutched at his chest and gasped for breath. "What did Marik do, tie you to the bed and gorge himself silly?"

"Don't talk about Marik like that, Bakura-sama," Ryou gasped, though his voice still had a tint of sternness within it. Bakura straightened, a smug smirk on his face.

"Well, obviously that means _yes_," the Thief King drawled. "He must've, with the way you're walking."

Ryou blushed again. "Bakura-sama, please stop."

The thief king merely grinned, but his eyes kept a sharp watch on Ryou's behavior. Deciding to drop all humor and festivities, Bakura sat down on his bed, taking off his cloak and throwing it among the pile of treasures nearby. His face was serious and stern, almost unnervingly sharp.

"Alright. Talk," Bakura said simply. Ryou started a bit, looking at Bakura tentatively and curiously.

"Er…Pardon me, Yami-sama?" Ryou asked, blinking.

"Talk," Bakura said simply again. "Something's up. And I want to know why and what."

Again, Ryou blinked, though this time, Bakura detected a bit of uncertainty in those naïve brown eyes. "Er…nothing's been going on, Yami-sama. Why?"

Standing up, Bakura said nothing. His eyes fell upon Ryou's own, sharp and scrutinizing. Crossing his arms over his chest, the thief strode forward, and soon enough, he was stalking Ryou in a circle. Looking very uneasy, Ryou shifted a bit, unconsciously covering over his heart with his bruise-littered wrists.

Instantly, Bakura's hand shot out, swift and skilled, and soon, his fingers had wrapped themselves around Ryou's wrist. The other former counterpart gasped in pain, wincing as he watched Bakura raise the bruised wrist up to his eyes. Those same, red-brown eyes began to trail from the wrist, up to Ryou's other, which was clasped over his heart protectively, and then up to Ryou's eyes. There they stayed for a while, sharp and scrutinizing.

Seemingly finished with his examination, Bakura threw Ryou's wrist away from him, straightening again. "Got laid really hard, didn't you?" drawled the thief again, watching as Ryou rub his already sore skin. Ryou merely made a face, but did not reply.

Bakura nodded a bit, thinking to himself. No smile was upon his face, and his entire expression seemed to in the position of utmost suspicion and deep thought. Nodding again, Bakura turned about, his back facing Ryou, while his front stared at the sky.

"Alright then," Bakura said, his tone serious and a tad bit cold, as it usually was. "So. Nothing's going on, is that correct, hikari? Nothing at all?"

Biting his lip, Ryou shook his head nervously. "N-Nothing at all, Bakura-sama," Ryou murmured.

"Nothing's wrong, then?" asked Bakura again, turning around. "Even though you were laid really hard, even by Marik's standards. Even though you are acting nervous deep inside, despite you deny it. Even though you're searching for Marik at later hours, when he should be by your side. So despite all that, everything's fine, hikari?" This last part Bakura drawled sarcastically.

Again, Ryou bit his lip, though his eyes were flashing with a mixture of worry and annoyance. "Of course everything's fine!" Ryou said, though his voice was a stammer. "Why…what else would you think, Yami-sama?"

"_Because_," Bakura said loudly, approaching Ryou again, his eyes narrowed piercingly, "_because_, dear hikari, there is something wrong. It's not like you to walk out at night, especially when you are in pain, no matter what the situation. It's not like you to get laid to the _point_ of pain either, unless it was for someone special. And further more, it's not like you to go out looking for that _someone special, _especially if _someone special is supposed to be your love and life._"

"Marik IS my love and life!" Ryou exclaimed. "He is! Of course he is!"

"I know he his," Bakura replied irritably. "We established that long ago, and I know you will never change your perspective on that, despite what Malik and I will ever say. However, what I'm saying is: are you still that _someone special _to _Marik_?"

For a moment, Ryou was silent, his face in the position to argue with Bakura, but faltered last minute. Shaking his head, Ryou stared determinedly at the ground, looking very upset.

"Of _course _he loves me, Yami-sama," Ryou whispered, his voice very steady and strong, filled with confirmation and faith. "Of course he loves me. Why would he have come back if he hadn't?"

"Why would he have tied you to the bed, laid you so hard that you are still bleeding, and then disappear without even a note, as he customarily does?" Bakura pointed out coldly. "Tell me, hikari. Has anything been upsetting Marik, lately? Has he been showing you the love and care and devotion he usually does? Has he been watching the sunsets and rises with you?"

"Well…well no," Ryou admitted, his face faltering. "No. We just…we just don't have time to, that's all. He…Marik…"

"…Wants to screw you day and night, and that's all he ever wants to do," Bakura finished, turning around and heading towards his bed and stretching. "Gee, sex day in and day out. No communication, no devotion, no care, no love. Just a master and his slave. Almost as if…"

"Marik would never do that!" Ryou cried out suddenly, jumping up. Abruptly, however, he sank to his knees again, the pain in his backside flaring up his spine and flaming up his back. Unable to contain himself, Ryou let out a pathetic whimper, his arms shaking precariously as they struggled to hold him up. "Marik…" he gasped, his voice still lined with faith and surety, "…would never do that. He'd never use me like you are suggesting, Yami-sama!"

"Sure, sure," Bakura replied casually, stepping next to Ryou and bonking the hikari on the head. "By the way, that was for whimpering," the thief said, replying to Ryou's confused look. "Remember? Rule number one: never let your enemy see your weaknesses. Isn't that right, hikari?"

Ryou sighed. "Yes, Bakura-sama."

Bakura smirked. "Good." Unraveling himself, he hooked on arm under one of Ryou's, and swiftly brought the hikari onto his feet. Swallowing, Ryou nodded his thanks, and without further ado, sank onto a pile of linen next to Bakura's bed, an expression of exhaustion on his face. Bakura eyed him warily.

"Tired, are you?" Bakura asked, sitting himself upon his bed and staring at Ryou next to him. "Man, Marik really must've worn you out. How many hours were you at it? Three? Four? The entire day?"

"What I do with Marik while we are expressing our love is none of your business," Ryou groaned, idly throwing a random coin at Bakura's head. Smirking again, the thief dodged it easily with a cock of his head, and brought his legs up to his bed, so that he was sitting cross-legged upon the sheets.

"Are you hurt?" Bakura asked casually, looking at Ryou through leisurely half-lidded eyes. Blinking, Ryou turned to look up at his former darker half, confused as to why Bakura would ever seem to care whether or not he was hurt.

"Umn…a little," Ryou admitted, not wanting to lie to Bakura, nor irritate Bakura by showing 'weakness'. "It's nothing big." Cocking his head to one side, Ryou regarded Bakura carefully. "You?" he asked, trying to be casual.

Immediately, Bakura started a bit, tensing as he watched Ryou warily.

"Why do you ask?" Bakura asked suspiciously. Ryou shrugged.

"Just wondering," he said. "Why would you ask me?"

"Because I don't want Malik to be upset," Bakura replied automatically. Then he grinned, a wicked glint in his eyes. "Plus, I want to be given a reason to beat Marik to a bloody pulp," he added cheerfully.

Ryou sighed. "Sadist," he muttered.

Bakura scoffed. "Naturally. At any rate, why would _you _ask me if I'm alright or not? I used to beat _you _into a bloody pulp when you stood in my why. Why are you asking me now?"

There was silence for a few moments, in which both Bakuras sat there, contemplating. In truth, Bakura was curious as to know why Ryou was suddenly so concerned with him…to a certain degree, it felt good to be on such good terms with his hikari. Maybe if he pushed if further, Ryou wouldn't even mind him going off to kill that dratted pair of shrimps called Yugi and Yami.

Unsatisfied by the silence, Bakura sighed. His tone, however, when he spoke, was light and serious, as though he truly did wish to hear the answer.

"Why do you care, hikari?"

Another silence followed, although it was shorter and lighter than the first. Finally, with a faint smile on his lips, Ryou replied distantly.

"Well…" he said very quietly, as though he dare not break the layer of sincerity between them, "…I am a hikari, am I not? Naïve, innocent, and kind to a fault. But…"

Here, he looked up, staring up and into Bakura's red-brown eyes. "I just…don't want to see you hurt," Ryou admitted softly. "You're a good person deep inside, Yami-sama. And there are lots of things that you don't deserve. And…even though I never said it before…" Here, Ryou chuckled softly, almost as though reminiscing. "…I've always wanted to help you, Yami-sama. It's just that…you've never given me the chance, that's all."

Laughing quietly again, Ryou turned his face towards Bakura. "Forgive me for being so sappy, Bakura-sama," he whispered. "But you and I…we are so similar, yet different. We started out on the same path, but we took different detours. And maybe…just maybe, yours has bigger bumps and deeper dents than mine. And, despite sometimes you might throw those bumps and dents at me…"

Sighing again, Ryou rested his eyes, leaning comfortably against the linen.

"…I wouldn't mind fashioning them…those bumps and dents…into something that might help you. You don't deserve a lot of things that has been done to you, and I really do want to help. Maybe…maybe out of the rocks and dents that you throw my way, I can someday make a little bridge…a nice, smooth, even one…and then maybe, just maybe…you can cross over the forest that stands between us, and come onto my path." Ryou smiled. "And…forgive me for saying so, Yami-sama," whispered Ryou quietly, "but I think I have the right to say that…on my side, there's more light than on yours."

* * *

There it was. The cave. The darkness. The darkness that crawled up upon the stones, twisting their shadows in forms of deadly branches and thorny vines. The darkness that hid the cave so well from the outside world, but to the well-trained eye, one could see just a dim flicker of light between the leaves of black. The dim flicker of many oil lamps, the dim flicker of a ray of hope. 

The ray of hope that Marik, the Shadow Master himself, will crush within his bloody fingers tonight.

* * *

"Don't be so tense, Bakura-sama," Ryou said softly. Closing his eyes and biting his lip, Ryou gently eased his fingers down Bakura's shoulders, tenderly attempting to ease the pain of old, returning scars. 

"I'm always tense, Ryou," Bakura muttered in reply. He, however, was smirking delightfully.

After their very sincere and brief discussion, Ryou had noticed Bakura wincing at his back wounds, and had offered him a massage. Bakura, warily and tense to the point of being rock hard, only gave it because of Ryou's little confession.

The gentle fingers that were slowly coaxing his muscles into relaxation almost seemed strange…different. It had been so long since Bakura had remembered…or felt…such a gentle, caring touch from someone other than his lover. Distinctly, Ryou's soft, pale hands almost reminded Bakura of his mother's, but he dared not reminisce.

"Is that better?" asked Ryou softly, trying his best to ignore what he was doing. Then again…he had promised to help his yami in any way…and if this helped their relationship to strengthen other than Spirit and Host, Ryou was definitely going to give it a try.

Smirking, Bakura nodded, lying his head on a pillow. "Better not let Malik or Marik find you like this," he mumbled.

"Malik and Marik will understand," Ryou replied quietly, his eyes slowly trailing down Bakura's back, staring with pity at the pale, slashed scars that adorned across Bakura's spine. "Malik has always wanted a better relationship between us. On the blimp, he told me that if he killed Marik, you'd be a better yami to me."

There was silence.

"I would've been," Bakura finally admitted, very quietly. Blinking, Ryou momentarily paused, looking over Bakura's shoulder to see his face.

"Really?" Ryou whispered. Making a face at his show of weakness, Bakura nodded, hiding his face back into the pillow. Ryou smiled, his heart almost lightening.

"But don't get any ideas," Bakura warned from the pillow, though his threat ended up sounding fare more muffled and feeble than it should've been. Ryou chuckled to himself, returning to help ease Bakura's tension.

"Still," Ryou whispered distantly, almost to himself. "I'm glad that you care, Yami-sama. It would've been nice to have you as a brother."

"A brother?" Bakura suddenly asked, his curiosity perked again. "Why?"

Startled, Ryou momentarily stopped his massaging again, but quickly regained himself. "Oh…well," he blushed. "Ever since…ever since Amane died…I never did have a sibling anymore. I grew up with her, you know. I grew up with a sister. I think, maybe subconsciously, that if you were a bit more protective and caring about what happened to me, that I would've liked you for a brother. After all, you are stronger than me, and more determined than me, and firmer than me. I could've learned from you."

"But you didn't," Bakura muttered, flopping back into his pillow. "All those beatings…didn't you learn?"

"You only hurt me when I stood in your way, Yami-sama," Ryou replied. "Now that I look at it, I don't blame you. I understand why you're fighting so hard to find and destroy Yami Yugi and the Millennium Items, and although I don't entirely agree with you, I can't say that it's injustice and evil either. I would've been upset if someone stood in my way for regaining and defending the honor of my family."

"Well, revenge and blood and world domination would be a bonus," Bakura muttered from the pillow. "But priorities have to be set. You're still so weak, hikari. You're forgiving me for every wrong that I've done to you, even though you should hate me."

Ryou sighed. "That's where you're wrong about me," he said tiredly. "I don't think like you, Yami-sama, and personally, I think the Shadows had twisted your mind in all those years in the Ring. I'm not hating you for the things you did; I'm _understanding_ you. I can't hate someone when they're simply taking things differently from a situation that I suffered through. I'd be a hypocrite."

Bakura shook his head. "Are you always this pensive?" he asked, yawning a bit. "So philosophical…did you get this from your mother? Amane was never liked this."

Ryou laughed, though although it was meant to be a laugh of humor and joy, it was lined with a deep sadness and remorse that Bakura instantly noted.

"You know Amane," he said, beginning at Bakura's shoulder blades and knocking them lightly with his fists, as though one would bang their fist on a door or play a xylophone without sticks, "she had more gust than I did. Such a tomboy…I even remember her fashioning a paper sword and challenging me to a duel when I was five."

Bakura scoffed, slightly disappointed that Ryou's massage was slowly coming to an end. "You know, at the time, I seriously thought Amane should've been born the boy, and you the girl. I've never seen a guy sit with their legs stuck together, nor extend his pinky over tea."

Laughing, Ryou knocked a fist into Bakura's back, although a little harder than before. "Oh be quiet. You're not exactly the gentleman either."

"I never said I was," Bakura grinned. Slowly, he sat up, stretching himself and marveling at the absence of his tense muscles. "Wow. You're good at this, hikari."

Blushing, Ryou shrugged. "It's nothing." Getting up to give Bakura more space on the bed, Ryou winced again. The pain was slowly getting harder and harder to bear, especially with his throbbing temples and his tightening chest. Bakura was eyeing him intently.

"Get on the bed," Bakura suddenly said.

Ryou blinked, his eyes wide. "E-Excuse me?" he stammered.

"Get on the bed," Bakura repeated, standing up. "On your back, and spread your legs. I'm going to go get some bandages." Bakura made a move to a corner, but Ryou protested.

"No…no, surely it's fine!" he insisted, though to no avail, as Bakura merely threw some gold over his shoulder to reveal wounds and wounds of white, linen strips. "I mean, I could just go home, maybe wait for Marik, he's probably worried sick over me now…"

"You won't be able to go home like that," Bakura replied back brusquely. "Plus…I hate debts, and I hate having Marik run after me with knife in hand. So just do as I say, got that?"

Ryou opened his mouth again, but Bakura sent him a deadly look, and the hikari was forced to oblige. Sighing, Ryou slid onto the bed onto his back, and spread his thighs wide, blushing furiously.

"Bakura, are you sure this is a good idea?" Ryou asked, feeling nervous. He wasn't used to be under the scrutiny of Bakura at all. Bakura, however, merely sent him a confused look, and promptly returned with a large roll of linen and a bottle of ointment.

"I've seen you naked before, hikari," Bakura muttered, stretching out the linen strips. "Here…just take off your skirt…thing…and put the ointment where it hurts. I'll wrap it."

"No, it's fine, really, Bakura-sama," Ryou stuttered. "I can wrap it myself."

"Sure you can," Bakura replied off-handedly, clearly not convinced. "Look, hikari, I'm finally actually helping you with something. Just let me actually help you, and then we can just go back to our daily lives, and forget anything ever happened." He looked up at Ryou. "Even though we were on one same path and we took different roads, our lives are still far too different. I don't believe that I can ever be what you wish me to be, no matter what you or anyone else says. I'm not nice, and I'm not kind, and I'm just not a soft-hearted person."

"Yes, I know," Ryou replied hastily. "I just meant that…there are times when we can talk like this…I really like them. I've never actually talked to you properly without you snapping back at me or threatening to hurt me…it makes me know the human side of you, and I guess not sharing a body does help a bit."

Bakura nodded, turning away respectively while waiting for Ryou to discard his garments. Blindly, Bakura thrust the jar of ointment into Ryou's hands, and waited for Ryou to be finished.

"I would've tried to be a better yami," Bakura said quietly, "because Malik wanted me to do it so badly. I never actually thought that you'd care if I was a better yami to you or not. Ever since we met, I had been nothing but cruel to you and everyone you cared for. I thought that by what Malik meant by being a 'better yami', was that for me to leave you alone entirely, and live your own life."

"That wouldn't have been that bad," Ryou admitted, applying the ointment and brushing away dried blood from his thighs. "But I've already been in loneliness for so long, Yami-sama. I wouldn't have minded if you gave some effort to show you cared. Of course, at that time I wouldn't have been convinced, if Marik wasn't there…but still. Eventually, I would've appreciated your attempt. It just takes patience and practice, that's all. Like stealing."

"Stealing is entirely different than asking," Bakura whispered softly, almost to himself. "There are just…some things you can't steal."

Ryou blinked, staring at Bakura curiously. "You mean…like…love?" he asked quietly.

Startled, Bakura started a bit, forgetting that Ryou was bare and turned round to face him. Instantly, Ryou flushed and covered his privates with his hands, though he was a little relieved that Bakura was merely staring into his eyes.

"Where did you hear that from?" Bakura demanded. Ryou flinched involuntarily, but responded in a steady voice anyways.

"From Mother," he said quietly. "She used to tell that to us when we were really young. _'There are some things you must earn in life that you cannot receive with hatred. You must not steal from others, because of what you lack. There are things in life that you cannot steal, that you cannot pilfer, or take without consent. And at those times, you must ask…whether it be forgiveness, love, or mercy.'_" Ryou took a deep breath here, looking at Bakura sheepishly. "It was after someone had stolen her locket when we were visiting Egypt. I don't remember much of that vacation…only that someone had stolen her locket and Amane was ready to attack the guy with a paper sword."

Bakura snickered, unable to contain himself. Ryou smiled weakly.

"But is that what you mean, Yami-sama?" Ryou asked. "That…you'd like to have some of those things, but you can't jump over your pride for them?"

Immediately, Bakura's face returned to his far more menacingly cold demeanor, and he promptly turned away. "Maybe," he muttered, not looking at Ryou as he slid the strips of linen up Ryou's legs. Ryou smiled slightly.

"Well…if you are asking," Ryou whispered softly, "I can give it to you."

Startled again, Bakura whipped his face to look at Ryou, accidentally bumping along Ryou's length. The hikari gasped with shock and surprise, and instantly Bakura whipped his hand away, as though burned.

"Ew!" he said childishly, making a face at his hand. "Ew ew ew ew ew!"

"Oh, be quiet!" Ryou gasped, forcing his awakened arousal down. "What the bloody heck was that?"

"It's not like I did it on purpose!" Bakura protested, still waving his hand in the air. "Ew ew ew ew ew EW!"

"Oh, grow up, Bakura," Ryou moaned, kicking Bakura lightly in the hip, shoving the thief off the bed. With a yelp, Bakura landed on the floor, annoyed and irritable that Ryou had caught him off-guard once again. Shaking his head, he then pounced on top of Ryou, and sat on Ryou's stomach. Ryou's eyes widened. "Hey!"

"You didn't call me 'sama'." Bakura sang, turning so that his back was facing Ryou. "Now quit squirming and let me wrap this up. Sniveling little worm…"

"I heard that!" Ryou cried. "It's _your _fault anyways!"

"It's not like I did it on purpose!" Bakura retorted again, rapidly binding Ryou's hips, rump and thighs with bandages. "Now hold still!"

"Ow! Yami-sama!" Ryou complained. "Be more gentle, will you?"

"Pfft," Bakura scoffed. "If you can handle Marik, you can handle me."

With an aggravated groan, Ryou flopped onto the bed, knowing full well that he'd never overcome Bakura. With a triumphant smirk, Bakura returned to his work.

* * *

There it was. Hidden in the shadows, Marik blended perfectly fine with the darkness of the tunnel leading to the entrance of the cave. In fact, such a tunnel proved quite useful on eavesdropping…even though what he heard was definitely not what he liked. 

In the darkness, his amethyst eyes widened in anger and rage. That voice…_those voices_…similar and familiar. The first one cold and harsh…the other…soft, melodious, and sweet.

Bakura.

And Ryou.

At first, Marik had intended to just simply do away with Bakura, but now, hearing Ryou's cries and moans and his pleads of '_Ow, Yami-sama! Be more gentle!_' and Bakura's _'If you can handle Marik, you can handle me'_ had boiled his blood to condescending point. Oh, how Ryou would _fear _him when Marik stormed in their lovemaking! By the GODS, Ryou _was_ betraying him! Filthy, disgusting, cowardly little _whore…_

Marik gritted his teeth, an insane, sadistic smirk creeping over his features. Discreetly, his hand began to trail itself down to his waist, gently fondling the dagger dangling at his hip with caressing fondness.

The opportune moment was near.

* * *

"Thank you, Bakura-sama," Ryou sighed, blushing heavily. Bakura shrugged, finally tying the last end of the bandage against Ryou's hip. The nicer boy's waist, rump and thighs were now tightly encased with white linen strips, preventing any blood-spill from his entrance. At any rate, to Ryou it looked like roughly made linen underwear. 

Sighing, Bakura turned around, still sitting on Ryou's waist. Smirking, he feigned wiping his forehead out of exhaustion, and Ryou giggled.

Sitting up slightly, Ryou stared into Bakura's eyes curiously. Taking a deep breath, Ryou flung his arms around Bakura's neck once more, tears suddenly prickling in his eyes.

Bakura's eyes widened to the size of saucers. Not again! What was he supposed to do now? Wait for Ryou to be finished? Pat him on the back? What?

"Thank you…yami-sama," Ryou whispered, tears finally leaking out of his eyes. He whimpered, hiding his face in the crook of Bakura's neck. "For…just…anything. If we ever go back to Domino, I just want you to know…if you ever need to talk again like we did tonight, you'll always know where to find me."

Sniffing, Ryou hung on tighter, trying his best to hide his tears.

"You know," he whispered, sniffing again, "I would never mind it if you did became my brother. It would be fun…to have a sibling again…to fight over the last piece of chicken, or to get Mum and Dad's attention…I mean, I've always been a big brother to Amane, but I never knew what would it be like to have a big brother myself…" Again, Ryou sniffed, hugging onto Bakura tighter. "…Thank you…Bakura. For giving me that doll again. I never thought I would see it. And yes…" Ryou whispered, wiping his tears on Bakura's shoulder. "I do forgive you. You have my forgiveness. My forgiveness, my trust, and my care. I'll always be there when you need me."

* * *

Marik seethed. _"I'll always be there when you need me"?_ Same words, same line. The very same sentence that Ryou had spoken to him so many times before. 

"_My forgiveness…"_

_Forgiveness_? How could anyone forgive someone as cruel and dark as Bakura himself!

_"…my trust…"_

So. Ryou trusted Bakura more than Marik. Figures.

Slowly, Marik slipped out his dagger, its blade glinting maliciously in the darkness, reflecting his stone amethyst eyes. With a smirk, he gently ran his finger down the side of the blade, his smirk only widening with satisfaction at the blood that bubbed from his finger.

"…_and my care…"_

_Well_, Marik thought, his smirk gone, his sadistic grin vanishing. _We'll see about that, my dear little thief. We'll see about that._

* * *

"You…you will?" Bakura breathed, his head spinning. Far too much was going at far too fast a speed. Ryou…forgiving him? Trusting him? No one had ever done that before…other than Malik. Bakura swallowed, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. "But…why?" 

Ryou sniffed.

"Well…just because…" Ryou whispered. "I've been so lonely so long, Bakura…without Amane…without Mum and Dad…you know what it feels like. You know what it does to you. And just…I just…" He swallowed. "I _like_ the times that I spend with you. I can actually _talk _to you. I never thought I actually could, but it turns out I can…because we've been through similar experiences. I could never tell Marik…I always think that he won't understand, that he'd just get upset or angry or jealous…he doesn't know what losing family is like, after you know them and love them for a while…"

* * *

A hand slowly flicked the dagger with swift grace, so that its blade was aiming at the ground. Soon, however, that very same blade will be aimed at something else…from where he stood, Marik had a clear view of Bakura's scarred back, and with a smirk, Marik knew where his target would be. 

Now…

* * *

"Well," Bakura stuttered, still severely caught off-guard, "if you want…I could try to be a better yami, or something…or brother, or whatever…I mean…spending time with you and Malik…it seems rather strange than before in Domino…but don't blame me if I'm harsh, okay?" Bakura asked, his voice suddenly turning sharper. "I mean, you know what I'm like. You can't expect me to turn into something like you or Malik within a day, or within my lifetime, both resurrecting or not. I'm cold, I'm heartless, and I'm cruel. That's all I will ever be." 

"But at times like these, you can be an excellent brother," Ryou whispered, his eyes welling with tears again. "That's all I ask, Bakura-sama…please…just…once in a while, when I really need it…can I come back to you like this again? No matter what? Can I just come back and give you a hug, and then talk things over with you? If Marik doesn't catch me, can I count on you?"

"You'd be better off counting on Marik," Bakura whispered quietly. "He's a lot better at catching someone like you than I am. But if you do ever need me…I guess I could be there for you once in a lifetime…or a while…"

Suddenly splitting into a beam, Ryou lunged into Bakura again, bringing him into an embrace so tight that it almost caught off Bakura's windpipe. Feeling his cheeks turn slightly blue, Bakura awkwardly patted Ryou on the head, having no idea what else to do.

Deep inside, Ryou was positively ecstatic. He was going to have a sibling again! A brother, no less! One older and easier to look up to!

He now had a lover and a brother…what else could go wrong? It was almost as though his old life was suddenly returning to him…the love who cared for him, and the sibling to back him up. For the second time in his life, Ryou felt utterly secure, knowing that if anything failed, he'd still have someone to catch and help him. For Ryou knew, he could never help himself alone.

But suddenly, all that came to a sudden halt and shattered, when Ryou opened his eyes and saw fiery amethyst ones glowering at him from the darkness. With a strangled cry, Ryou gasped, but before he could do anything else, something silver and sharp flashed before him, and embedded itself in his new brother's back.

Caught entirely off-guard, Bakura let out a choked cry, his eyes widening and his pupils dilating. Blood splattered forth from his parted lips, seething in sheets through his clenched teeth, splattering the wall in front of him.

Crying out, Ryou quickly untangled himself from Bakura's arms, desperately attempting to find the dagger and pull it out. With another weak, strangled gurgle, Bakura slumped off the bed and onto the floor, blood dripping from his mouth. Tears began to pour down Ryou's cheeks, as he followed Bakura onto the floor, desperately trying to revive his newfound brother.

"Bakura! Bakura!" Ryou cried, shaking the other's shoulder. "Bakura!"

"D-Damned….knife…" Bakura strained out, blood flecking from his lips.

"I'll get it out!" Ryou cried, looking absolutely frantic. "I'll get it out! Hold on, yami-sama, Bakura-sama, nii-sama!"

Quickly, Ryou scurried around Bakura, his hands wrapping tightly around the hilt of the dagger. With a heavy heave, Ryou attempted to pull it out, his mind and heart racing at the idea of Bakura dying before him.

Suddenly, however, something grabbed his hair harshly and jerked him back. With a cry, Ryou arched his back, but would not let go of the dagger's hilt. In return, as the assassin yanked hard on Ryou's hair again and threw Ryou into the wall, the force of the pull managed to jerk the dagger out. The victim coughed, splattering blood about the floor.

Calmly, Marik strode forwards, bloodshed being nothing new to him. Coolly, he picked up the dagger, idly wiping the blood on Bakura's shoulder, and inspected it, as one would inspect the condition of a pencil.

"As I thought," Marik muttered, staring at his reflection in the blade. He then turned his gaze towards Bakura, who was still struggling to get to his feet. "You know, it was meant for your heart," Marik said coldly, watching as Bakura shot him a deadly glare. "But I must've missed…after all, I couldn't hurt Ryou just yet, could I?"

"Of course you missed!" Bakura spat, glowering deeply at Marik. "The heart's on the left side, below the shoulder! Whatever you just did, you disgusting piece of perverted filth, it won't be fatal!"

"Pity," Marik replied coolly, staring at Bakura with merciless eyes. "You know, I quite enjoy seeing you on your knees before me, Bakura. Something of a blow to your pride…and something of a puff on mine. I had thought of so many wonderful ways to beat you to a bloody pulp in front of your new-found love, but I suppose I could always do it differently…"

"Bloody disgusting perverted BASTARD!" Bakura spat again. "You're just like the pharaoh, aren't you? Cold, pathetic, thick with glory and ego. Bloody, disgusting, perverted BASTARD!"

"Why thank you," Marik replied idly, twirling the dagger within his fingers. "Now…if you would just kindly scream in terrible pain while I do this…" Suddenly, Marik held the dagger high over Bakura's neck, insanity gleaming in his eyes. "Oh, Bakura…."

The dagger began to fall….

"Die," Marik hissed.

"NO!" Ryou cried. "NO!"

Shutting his eyes tight, Ryou hurtled himself into the dagger's way, throwing himself across Bakura's back. The end…the end was near…but if he saved Bakura…

Nothing happened.

Slowly, whimpering, Ryou cracked open his eyes, looking over his shoulder. The shiny tip of the dagger gleamed before him, dangling just an inch short of his heart.

Behind him, Marik stood rigidly, his hand still clenched hard around the dagger's hilt. Slowly, his eyes began to narrow, his amethyst orbs flashing fury and hatred beyond compare.

Cocking his head to one side, Marik slowly knelt on one knee, his eyes never leaving Ryou's terrified ones. Beneath the Light, Bakura remained curled, his breathing ragged and his blood dripping onto the floor. From where he sat, he could not see anything, but indefinitely, he could _feel _Marik's eyes burn into Ryou's own.

"So," Marik said softly, analyzing Ryou with his stone eyes. With a smirk, he placed the dagger's blade beneath Ryou's chin, forcing the terrified Light to bare his neck. "Miss me, my little thief? Or has your loving _Yami-sama _kept you nice and warm and comforted?"

"M-Ma…Marik…" Ryou stuttered, his heart beating in his ears, "….p-please…"

Marik regarded him coldly. "Oh? What is this now, a last-minute attempt for mercy? Surely you must've seen this coming, my dear sweet little thief."

"W-What…what are you talking about?" Ryou breathed in horror. He cried out again when Marik suddenly jerked his dagger blade upward, baring Ryou's throat further. A trickle of blood welled beneath Ryou's chin, and slithered down his neck.

"Oh, I'm sure you know," Marik smirked, one finger slowly trailing across Ryou's quivering throat and tracing the bloodline upwards. "After all, why else would you be so terrified to see me here? Did you think you could get away with loving Bakura rather than me?" Slowly, Marik's smirk widened, slowly becoming into a sadistic grin. "Oh, my dear Ryou…my dear little Ryou…"

Suddenly, Marik's fingers had curled around Ryou's throat. Instantly, Ryou choked, his hands immediately coming up to Marik's, scratching and pawing at them in attempt to lessen their pressure. However, Marik merely laughed at Ryou's struggle, and proceeded to lift the Light off the ground.

"Know this, Ryou," Marik hissed, his face no longer smug, sadistic or otherwise. Instead, it was hard, cold, and merciless, empty of emotion and devoid of compassion. He clenched his hand, emitting a high-pitched, desperate whimper from Ryou's throat, "that when you become mine, you can never be someone else's. Should you defy me, there shall always be a price." He clenched his hand again, and Ryou cried out desperately, his face slowly turning into an unhealthy shade of blue.

"Bastard," Bakura hissed from below Ryou's dangling feet. Blood still trickled from his mouth. "You sick, twisted, insane, bloody perverted BASTARD!"

Such an outburst earned a sharp blow to Bakura's side from Marik, the other yami's face not even fazing at Bakura's interruption. Seething, Bakura clutched at his side, knowing full well that such a blow may have fractured a rib or two.

"Silence, thief," Marik said lowly. "You'll deal with your punishment later." Slowly, Marik's smirk returned, as his eyes widened with sadistic glee. "Well well well. What _shall _I do with you now? You know, my little thief, blue isn't really quite your color…"

With a swift throw, Marik calmly hurtled Ryou into the wall. The Light crashed against the cave's hard surface, his head jerking back at the force of the blow. Blood flew from his lips, his body sliding to the ground, crumpling pathetically against the floor. With a triumphant, cold smirk, Marik then began to advance upon Bakura, who was still glaring at him venomously.

"No!" Ryou cried, his voice strangled. "Please! Marik! Please stop! Don't hurt Bakura!"

"Oh?" asked Marik mildly, twirling his dagger dangerously. "And why not?"

"Please!" Ryou pleaded. "Please Marik! Please stop!"

"Should I stop because you _love _him?" Marik asked, his smirk becoming a bit of a leer. "Because he's your one and only _true _love?"

Ryou's mouth fell open, shocked beyond words. His next protests merely came out as incomprehensible stutters, but Marik ignored them, staring down upon him.

"You know," Marik said coldly, his leer gone, "you're not very good at lying, Ryou. I can see right through you. You think you can get away with betraying me? You think you can get away with screwing with Bakura, and think that I will be fine with it? I doubt it."

"Marik!" Ryou cried suddenly, shutting his eyes tightly. "NO! Please! Stop! I didn't do anything like that! You have to believe me!"

"And why should I?" Marik hissed venomously. "I come here, intending to kill Bakura, minding my own business, and then I hear your voice…_your _voice, giggling and laughing, enjoying yourself immensely….and then I come round, and I _see _you…" Suddenly, Marik's voice filled with indescribable hatred, his voice tinted with a steely glaze, sharper than the dagger within his hand. "HUGGING him. In his arms, in an EMBRACE! NAKED."

"I…I was…I was…!" Ryou spluttered, still at a loss as to what to do. Too much was happening too fast, and his throbbing head and crying tears could not handle so much. "Nothing's going on with me and Bakura! Please, Marik, listen to me! Let me explain!

"Oh? Then explain THIS!" Marik roared. With a man of intense fury, he stalked forwards towards the cowering Ryou. One strong hand managed to grip Ryou's hair and twisted it harshly, brining Ryou to his knees. Crying out, Ryou thrashed about, his tears streaming down his cheeks.

"No! Please! Marik, please let go!"

"Explain this!" Marik yelled, seemingly unable to hear Ryou's pleas. With that, he tore apart the linen strips that encased Ryou's privates, revealing them for all to see. Fuelled with his anger, Marik shook his fist heatedly, yanking cruelly upon Ryou's hair.

"Marik!" Ryou screamed. "Please, Marik, please stop! It hurts! Stop it!"

"Oh, you really think so?" Marik asked sarcastically.

Ryou remained crying. "Please Marik! Please! Let go! It hurts!"

"OH?" Marik roared. "So you think it hurts now, do you? BEG! You want your relief! BEG! NOW!"

"MARIK! PLEASE!" Ryou screamed. "Stop it! Stop it PLEASE! It hurts!"

While this was all happening, Bakura was forced to watch. Despite the deep wound in his back, and the two broken ribs at his side, he could not feel the pain. Instead, what he felt was righteous fury…_fury!_ The one person who had shown him kindness despite what he had done…the one person who did not love him as a lover, but cared for him as though family….being beaten by the one thing that meant to the one person the most…

Bakura snapped.

Gritting his teeth, he staggered to his feet, blood flowing down heavily in torrents off his back.

So Marik thought he was the only one who could feel rage? Well. Bakura was going to prove him wrong. Prove him wrong for hurting Ryou…prove him wrong for hurting Malik…the only two people that cared for Bakura at all in life despite what he did….

Even though he did not care for Ryou as lover, the fact remained that Ryou had helped him, had asked him to become at least brotherly friends. The fact remained that Ryou was still being beaten by someone he cared for the most, still willing to submit himself before Marik in order to save Bakura from death.

Bakura gritted his teeth. He could not walk away. Not now. Screw his entire Darkness act. Seeing Marik beat Ryou senseless reminded Bakura highly of the palace guards…cold, ruthless, sadistic and pathetic. Just like the pharaoh.

With that in mind, Bakura forced his energy alive. Slowly, a large, pale creature of a monstrosity of a human, with wings sprouting from its back and its waist ending with that of a snake appeared behind him.

"DIABOUND! DESTROY!"

The pale monster reared back, its snake-head rearing, and its human torso tensing. Suddenly, it shot through the air, white wings a rapid flutter. Soon, a flash of blinding light followed, blinding the entire cave with the ferocity of its attack. Discreetly, through the commotion, Ryou's scream was heard, terrified and helpless.

Then…there was silence.

Slowly, the light faded away, curling itself into clouds and meaningless fog. Coughing blood, Bakura brushed them away with the back of his hand, Diabound devotedly behind him. Marik would be finished now….

But no.

There, admits the fading fog and the curling clouds, stood the Egyptian Shadow Master. Amethyst eyes gleaming, a smirk in place, Marik was still alive, a silver Winged Dragon behind him.

"Nice try, Bakura," Marik smirked.


	14. Choosing Between Them

**Y.Bakura Y.Malik fan**: No, really, in the canon Yu-Gi-Oh, Marik has no ancient past, which is quite strange, since Bakura and Seto and Isis are there. But no, Marik has no ancient past, even though he studied it. That's why I thought maybe he'd know of the concept of Kas and Bas, but there's no actual proof of Marik in the AE arc. In fact, I didn't even see Malik in the Ancient Egypt arc, unless it was just to bring Yami Yugi to the door or whatever. Yami Bakura is just…(cries) …EVERYWHERE in that Arc!

This chapter is dedicated to Karmi.

* * *

Chapter Fourteen: Choosing Between Them

Ryou didn't know what to do.

Deep inside, his heart was ramming in his ribcage…shrieking and tearing and tossing about in hysterics, but on the outside, his body was immobile. His hands were pressed hard over his ears, and broken, terrified sobs escaped his lips. And even though his eyes were shut tight, they could not prevent the tears from leaking through.

The roars and rage of battle were tuned to a buzzing hum in his ears, blocking them of the vulgar profanities and curses and screams of pain. Fire spat and lightning flashed; blood splattered and thunder roared. The mere feel of the battle frightened Ryou out of his wits enough to prevent him from watching.

His brother…his brother and his lover…were fighting! And one of them would surely die!

But what could Ryou do?

He was a mere weakling, both mind and soul and body. There was no possible way he could stop his lover and his yami from fighting, especially now that each had grown a special hatred for one another. And Marik…Marik didn't seem to be able to listen to him anymore. Marik…Marik had _hurt _him!

How could Marik have _hurt _him?

Ryou's heart was lost…torn between fear and confusion and hurt and betrayal. Marik…he had promised to never hurt Ryou…he had promised to protect Ryou…he had promised… he had promised!

Poor Ryou…confused, hurt, bewildered and pained, could only curl up pathetically and cry, hoping with all his heart that both his brother and his lover would come out of their fervent duel alive.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed his hair, jerking his head back and forcing him to bare his throat. In the next second, a cold blade pressed itself against his skin, digging deep into his flesh.

"Don't move," Bakura hissed from behind. "I won't hurt you."

Weakly, Ryou nodded, and opened his eyes. And indeed, behind him knelt Bakura, holding the dagger to Ryou's throat. Before him stood Marik, blood trickling from the corner of his smirking lips, looking not the least bit frayed.

"Don't move!" Bakura yelled. "Ryou's life is in my hands! You dare to move at all, and I will personally slit his throat!"

Ryou trembled, tears dripping down his cheeks. Would Bakura really do that?

Now that Ryou had his eyes open, he could see the remnants of the deadly battle. The hanging cones of stones were shattered about, their debris among trailing clouds of smoke. Chests were overturned, their contents cracked and askew. Linen strips hung from never-before-imagined places, swaying exhaustedly in the wind.

And yet, the battered Ka called Diabound remained strong, though it was clear his strength was rapidly fading. The silver, sleek Winged Dragon, however, hardly even looked scratched, though it seemed slightly tired. And there was Marik…smirking as though he could not have seen a better turn of events.

"You're willing to stoop to such battle tactics?" Marik taunted, throwing his head back in laughter. "Well, go on. Finish him. Kill Ryou if you will."

Harshly, Bakura pressed the dagger deeper into Ryou's throat, tearing a terrified pained cry from Ryou's lips. Immediately, Ryou's trembling increased.

"Please Bakura-sama," Ryou whispered. "Please…"

Bakura gritted his teeth. Surely Marik would've cared for Ryou's safety…the last time they had battled, Marik wasn't even willing to strike Bakura in case Ryou would be hurt…Now he was actually _suggesting_ Bakura to kill Ryou? _Encouraging _him to kill Ryou?  
Bakura shook his head, his mind frantically searching about for another plan. He wouldn't mind hurting Ryou at all…even it was just to scare Marik…but to the point where Ryou's life would be in peril? He was a thief, not a murderer…

Growling, Bakura grabbed Ryou's wrist, twisting it behind the Light's back. Again, Ryou cried out, more tears spilling from the corners of his eyes. Slowly, with a sadistic smirk on his face, Bakura brought the dagger from Ryou's neck, and held it above Ryou's spine.

"Would a slow, painful death suit you?" Bakura asked, though his heart was ramming nervously. "Surrender now, and maybe Ryou's life might be saved…after all, wouldn't you want to spend all eternity with your love?"

Marik's smirk only grew. "You bluff," Marik laughed. "I can see it in your eyes, Bakura. You bluff. "

"Oh?" Bakura whispered, the tip of the dagger grazing Ryou's skin. Slowly, he lowered the dagger, is tip gradually sinking in a sea of white. This time, Ryou screamed in fear, sobbing pitifully in Bakura's arms. "You call this a bluff?" he asked Marik, who was watching the entire scene with empty eyes.

_I hope he buys it, _Bakura thought to himself desperately. _If there are any gods watching…let Marik buy it!_

But, as Bakura knew since his village massacre, that the gods never answered his prayers. And this time, when Ryou's life was on the line, the gods proved that when Marik slowly took a step forward.

"One more step and he'll die!" Bakura yelled again, though deep inside he was faltering. Perhaps…there just had to be another way… "You…you'd dare risk Ryou's life this way?" he yelled at Marik.

Marik smirked. "Well…" he said softly, his fingers slowly flexing themselves, "would this answer your question?"

Suddenly, the silver Winged Dragon shot forwards, and impaled its beak in Ryou's chest.

There was a blinding flash of light in which much confusion ran amok. Diabound, who was a creature of Darkness, roared and retreated at the intrusion of sudden light. A flaring pain found itself inside Bakura's chest, and blood spurted forth from his lips. The dagger slipped from his grasp and flew from his fingers, disappearing in the blinding light.

More screams echoed in the cavern, and distinctly, Bakura could hear Ryou's filled with pain and confusion, his voice lined with helplessness and desperate, incoherent pleads. Squinting in the light, Bakura groped his way around in the unceasingly flash of white, desperate to find Ryou before it was too late.

"YOU FOOL!" Bakura roared, collapsing forwards. Discreetly, he heard…and felt…someone scream next to him, before the figure also fell forwards, whimpering and twitching beside him. Gritting his teeth, Bakura grasped hard onto Ryou's wrist, feeling his former host's body spasm on its own. "YOU'LL KILL US ALL!"

"Maybe," Marik's voice floated from the light, filled with malicious satisfaction. "Maybe."

Gritting his teeth again, Bakura looked towards his left, his eyes still in slits because of the light. Barely, he could make out the faint form of Ryou next to him, weakening and twitching pathetically on the floor, unable to call, plead, or beg for help.

_Ore no hikari…_

"MARIK!" Bakura yelled, as Ryou's body finally fell limp, "STOP THIS NOW! HOW CAN YOU DO THIS TO HIM! MARIK, STOP!" He held on tighter to Ryou's wrist. "MARIK! HE'S DYING! STOP!"

At first, it seemed as though Marik would continue his onslaught. But slowly, gradually…almost within inching _years_…the sharp flash of light died down to a dim glow. The silver Winged Dragon flapped its wings and returned behind Marik, who was slowly evolving into view. Eventually, the light faded out entirely, and all was left, was the remnants of the battle: the loser, the victim, and the triumphed.

Coughing weakly, Ryou slumped onto his side, his back beginning to bleed from the dagger Bakura had previously pressed. His body shuddered again, this time less violently than before, and then he went still.

Cursing loudly, Bakura staggered to his feet, leaning against the wall for balance. Gritting his teeth, he stepped in front of Ryou, making sure that Marik would have to kill him first, before getting to Ryou.

"You're awfully brave, aren't you?" Marik asked idly, crossing his arms over his chest. Bakura's left eye twitched.

"You fool," he hissed. "You blasted, dead-ended, slimy, cocky-headed FOOL! You could've killed him! You could've killed all of us! You don't … you can't…you're not even ABLE to fathom the powers of Ka and Ba, and yet here you stand, using it with every fiber of power within you? Are you MAD?"

"Oh come now," Marik replied easily, not sounding the least bit fazed. "Let's not be rude. I must admit you put up a rather formidable battle. But surely you cannot possibly think that I would not know the advantages of Ka and Ba? I'm Marik, naturally.'  
"You're nothing but an insolent, pathetic, slimy GRAVE KEEPER!" Bakura yelled. "You're nothing but a grave keeper…a slave to the pharaoh…a worm who wants to be a dragon…you're nothing! Nothing to your name, nothing to your reputation, NOTHING!"

"And what are you?" Marik sneered. "I, at least, have some powers which are worthy to even the Pharaoh himself! How could Ryou ever fall in love with such a beggar like you? YOU'RE nothing!"

"Nothing?" Bakura repeated, staring at Marik as though the other were mad. He swept his arms around the ruins of his cavern. "YOU'RE nothing but a GRAVE KEEPER. You don't even have anything to your NAME! I'm BAKURA, KING OF THIEVES! The entire land of EGYPT fears me!"

"Oh, I'm sure," Marik drawled sarcastically. "Why would anyone be afraid of a mugger, who steals mere pots and plates for his own amusement? You don't even steal LIVES."

"I will," Bakura hissed. "I will. You can't possibly understand, Marik. You….you're nothing but a selfish, pathetic bastard! A King wanna-be! You've never seen the Pharaoh's wickedness first hand! _HE'S_ EVIL! _YOU'RE_ EVIL!"

"And what are you?" Marik laughed.

Bakura gritted his teeth. "I am the Darkness," he hissed. "Nothing can destroy me. You were gone once the pharaoh defeated you!"

Marik's face suddenly lost its smirk, and Bakura knew he hit a nerve.

"That was Malik," Marik hissed. "If it weren't for that weakling of a Light, I would've won!"

"So?" Bakura sneered. "I had to live with Ryou! Look at him! He's weak! And yet, the pharaoh never defeated me! In fact, he thought me as his companion, until I revealed myself before him! You're NOTHING, Marik! You're NOTHING! I'm surprised Ryou ever found anything to love in such a hollow, empty SHELL."

"He DOESN'T love me," Marik hissed. "Look at him! He ran to YOU, the little sniveling coward! I turn my back, and he's in YOUR arms! I'm surprised he hasn't asked you to bed him yet!"

"EW!" Bakura yelled. "EW! Me? Bed Ryou? That's disgusting! That's lowly! You know I belong only to Malik, and ONLY to Malik! What caused you to think THAT, you jealous, greedy, pompous bastard!"

"The fact that Ryou has found comfort in YOU!" Marik bellowed. "The fact that the moment I turn my back, he's running here, laughing with you, talking with you, and TOUCHING you! The fact that YOU were touching HIM, and HE was in your arms BARE! Can you not see the foreplay!"

"What foreplay?" Bakura yelled back irritably. "You jealous, insane, pompous bastard, that's not FOREPLAY! Ryou knows NOTHING of foreplay! If anything, he WAITS for people to make the first move! He'd never be the one to do it first! He's always waiting for YOU to make foreplay! Come to think of it, I don't think he even WANTS your foreplay!"

In a quick flash, Bakura instantly knew that he had severed another nerve. The moment he blinked, Marik had caught him against the wall, his hand wrapped around Bakura's throat. His breath was beginning to hitch, and his lungs slowly began to burn. But despite all that, Bakura smirked.

"Heh…faster than before, aren't you?" he taunted, though his voice was strained. "I should've seen that one coming. Come on, coward. Kill me."

"Oh I will," Marik hissed. Slowly, he reached for his dagger, and pressed it against Bakura's throat. The thief narrowed his eyes, looking at the blade somewhat warily, though his eyes were gleaming with hatred and spite.

"Kill me," Bakura threatened, his smirk becoming a taunting grin. "Kill me. Kill me now. Then both Ryou and Malik will be yours…yours to slaughter, to kill. But Malik won't ever be defeated, no…you know what he's like. He'll find you, and he'll hunt you down like a dog."

"Empty threats," Marik breathed lowly, the dagger's blade scraping a bit of Bakura's skin. "Empty threats."

"If you think they're so empty," Bakura hissed, "why not kill me now? Or are you just afraid that I might come back, and destroy you like I did before?"

"You never destroyed me, Bakura," Marik breathed. "Never. It was I who always triumphed over you."

Bakura grinned. "If you're so great, let's just count the times each of us as taken the pharaoh…and lived to tell the tale…" Here, Bakura bent forward a bit, his face still taunting, still daring Marik to slit his throat. When he spoke, his voice was soft, barely a whisper, taunting and lined with malice. "…Mariku?"

Instantly, Marik reared the dagger from Bakura's throat, holding it high above the air. For a split second, the dagger gleamed in the dim light of the cave, twinkling brightly with the same rage and hatred that were gleaming in Marik's eyes. And even though it merely took a second, it seemed an eternity, as the dagger slowly fell…and fell….and fell…Bakura sucked in his last breath…the dagger scraped his throat…

"NO!"

The next instant was a blur. Something pale had collided into Marik's side, throwing the Darkness aside, just as the dagger scraped Bakura's throat. The thief was released, and breathing deeply, Bakura slumped forwards, clutching his chest of the air that had been previously denied. When he caught his breath, he turned around, astounded at his sight.

Ryou. His pathetic little host. His pathetic little host that was too kind for his own good, who would not even hurt a fly, but rather capture it, and set it free. His little host Ryou.

Was fighting Marik.

Though Ryou's moves were mostly defensive, it was clear that Marik was too caught off-guard to properly defend himself. Instead, the Darkness merely raised his hands and took the beatings, his expression hidden in the darkness. Ryou, however, was continuing his onslaught, tears streaming down his face.

_I've never done this before_, Ryou thought desperately, tears streaming down his cheeks. _Marik…how could I be hurting Marik?_

Oh, how Ryou's heart was torn! He didn't want to hurt Marik…he didn't want to hurt Marik…he only wanted to stop Marik from killing Bakura…Just the thought…just the thought of waking up from unconsciousness and seeing Bakura killed, slaughtered…painted in blood and his eyes glazed…it was too much for Ryou to handle. Too much.

_"You didn't see the car crash…the metal bits flying in the air…"_

No…he could not…Ryou squeezed his eyes shut, more tears spurting forth from his eyelids. No…Mother…Father…Amane…

_"…or the cracked windshield that scrapped Amane's head….you didn't hear your mother's cry…or Amane's screams…."_

….Yami-sama….

_"…or the sirens that came too late to save them…"_

No. No. Ryou knew he could not experience that again. To have someone you cared for be torn away from you so terribly…Ryou could not…experience that again…his brother…he had to save his brother…but Marik….oh, Marik…his _lover_…

_"You didn't SEE the offending car drive off, its tires squealing in fear and injustice…!"_

Marik…oh Marik…

_"Injustice…"_

Suddenly, a hand threw itself into Ryou's cheek. Caught off-guard, Ryou emitted a choked cry, before flying towards his right, crashing into floor. His left cheek burned considerably, and his right side ached from his descend. Suddenly, a foot pressed itself into Ryou's back, painfully impeding itself into Ryou's spine.

"Go," Marik said lowly, his voice cold and heartless. "Wait for me outside, my little thief. Bakura and I have some…discussions…to take care of."

"No," Ryou breathed, choking and coughing. "No."

Marik raised and eyebrow, and promptly stomped his foot into Ryou's head. The Light cried out in pain and fear, but Marik could see…for the first time in his life…the defiance that was sparkling in Ryou's teary brown eyes.

For a moment, Marik froze, remembering…remembering how much he had adored those eyes, how much they had sparkled with joy and glee, pain and suffering, and love and adoration. How he had brushed away every tear, and comforted every sob…how he had kissed the soft cheeks beneath them…

_Don't kill him! _that voice pleaded. _Don't kill him!_

Suddenly, caught off-guard again, Marik was thrown off of Ryou. This time, however, the attacker was much stronger than Ryou, and clearly, Marik had mistaken the true amount of Thief King Bakura's strength.

"HIKARI! GO! NOW!" Bakura bellowed. "GO!"

Nodding hastily, Ryou scrambled to his feet. Quickly, he grabbed a nearby robe and wrung it around his nude body, its flapping ends at his ankles as he ran.

The cave entrance slowly grew into view as he continued to run. There it was…his freedom…his chance to run from the terror and bloodshed that laid behind him…

A choked scream cut through the air, and Ryou froze.

He did not need to turn around to realize that Bakura was severely losing. Apparently, with Marik's rage and strength added together, Bakura's own strength was no match. The sounds of flesh being smacked and bones being cracked….the sounds of Bakura's reluctant gasps of pain and Marik's triumphant roars…the sound of Bakura being thrown towards the cave entrance, his body landing dully on the floor…it was all too much. Too much for Ryou.

With a tearful, frustrated cry, Ryou whipped around. He knew Bakura was lying directly behind him. Lying there…so still, breathing so quietly…crying out again, Ryou returned to the battle scene, and threw himself upon Bakura's torso.

Weakly, Bakura looked up. A river of blood was slowly trickling down his temple.

"R-Ryou…baka, get out of here…" Bakura breathed.

"No," Ryou breathed back. "No. I won't go. You're hurt, Yami-sama. You're hurt."

"I already know that," Bakura hissed, though inside, he couldn't help but feel touched by his hikari's newfound devotion. "Just go!"

"No," Ryou whispered firmly. "No."

"Ryou!" Suddenly, Marik's voice cut through, ice hard and steely. Each turned their heads towards the other Egyptian, who slowly began to advance on them. Ryou swallowed, though his eyes slowly began to hold defiance within them. As he watched Marik slowly approach them, he raised his head high, determined to protect Bakura as best as he could.

Marik's gaze was once again, hard, cold, and empty. They withheld no emotion, no sympathy, no compassion. There was not even a faint trace of lavender that Ryou had once found…the same lavender that warmed his heart and twinkled with adoration and care. No. It was all gone, replaced by cold, amethyst stones.

"Ryou." Marik narrowed his eyes, his voice a soft, dangerous whisper. "Go. Now."

"No." Ryou shook his head, his drying eyes still locked with Marik's. "No."

Marik narrowed his eyes. "You dare disobey me?" he hissed. "Again?"

"What do you mean, 'disobey'?" Ryou asked bravely, a frown gracing his soft features. "What do you mean, 'disobey'? Why should I obey every order you give me? When have I disobeyed you before?"

"When have you disobeyed me?" Marik hissed. "By coming here, naturally! You…I knew it. You were nothing but a cowardly snake. Tell me. All those moves that you bestowed upon me…did you hide them in secret, in case I would want to overcome you, or did you hide them so that one day, you could assassinate me for your better friends? Yami…Bakura…Malik…what other lies are you keeping from me?"

"What lies?" Ryou whispered, genuinely hurt by such accusations. His frown disappeared, lifting and revealing a pleading, dumbfounded look in its wake. "Marik…I'm sorry if I never told you…Amane and I …my sister…my sister…"

"Of course I know about your pathetic sibling!" Marik spat. Instantly, Ryou recoiled, harshly taken aback and looking once again, near tears. Pathetic…pathetic sibling? "And what about now? Here you are, protecting Bakura again, when you should be on my side, _by_ my side!"

"I have a choice whether or not I should help someone!" Ryou cried, more tears spilling down his face. "Marik, you're the one who intruded us! You're the one who hurt Bakura! Bakura's wounded, Marik! You STABBED him! How can I not help him?"

"LEAVE!" Marik bellowed. "I come here to kill Bakura, and you stand in my way! AGAIN! I had hoped that person I could've knocked some sense into you, perhaps even punish you a bit, but my temper is running short, Ryou, and you're not going to be spared if you don't leave now!"

"I will NEVER leave!" Ryou yelled right back. "You have NO right to come here and just kill Bakura! I am NOT leaving him! I don't know why you're acting like this all of a sudden, and I'd like to know why, but I'm NOT BLOODY GOING TO LEAVE WITH YOU IF YOU'RE GOING TO TALK TO ME THIS WAY!"

"SILENCE!" Marik bellowed. "What do you think you can do for him now, my little thief? All the wounds I've bestowed upon him are fatal! Your love will die anyway! There's nothing you can do for him! And if you don't just GET OUT OF MY WAY, I assure you, YOU will end up the same way as him!"

"THEN SO BE IT!" Ryou screamed. "I don't care! I don't care! I'm not leaving Bakura!"

"GO!" Marik bellowed again. "GO, OR YOU WILL NEVER SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY AGAIN! GO! NOW!"

"NO!"

With that, Ryou flung himself over Bakura.

"I will not leave him," Ryou whispered, a teardrop trickling form his eye. "I will never give up on him. I'll never give up on you, Yami-nii-sama."

Gently, he slid his fingers beneath his former yami's cheek, and lifted Bakura's face from the ground. The former Darkness groaned a bit, before blinking his eyes open. At the sight of Ryou, he gave a weak, cheeky grin, despite the blood that was slowly welling at the corner of his lips.

"R-Ryou…baka," Bakura breathed. "Go…I thought I told you to go…"

"No," Ryou breathed back. "No. I can't go. I won't go. You're hurt, Yami-sama. You're hurt."

"I already know that," Bakura hissed, though clearly, he was touched by Ryou's newfound devotion in him. "Just go."

"No," Ryou whispered firmly. "No."

With those words, Ryou closed his eyes, and gently pressed his hands against Bakura's chest. Bakura's eyes widened.

Momentarily, Marik froze. He had…he was…he had been so close…so close!…to destroying Bakura. And yet…here Ryou was…kneeling beside him…pressing his hands on Bakura's chest…! NO!

As Marik watched in rage and horror, a faint figure of a fair woman appeared. Young and distinctly childish, her brown hair sweeping against her shoulders, she slowly flapped her wings, rising high over the white-haired figures. One wing was clearly black, and the other was clearly white. Her flowing, green robes were in two different shades: one of emerald, the other of forest green.

Change of Heart.

Ryou's Ka.

Distinctly, Marik could not help but feel the foreboding radiance of Ryou's Ka. It seemed as though his Ka herself was a sign…a sign of Ryou's own 'change of heart', that he had changed his mind, that he decided to go on the other side.

_NO! _Marik thought angrily. _Don't you dare! You're on MY side! MINE! Because you're MINE!_

However, the little voice inside his head did not scream…it did not follow the rations of his angry thoughts. Instead, it pleaded…it was broken, shattered, mourning…it cried.

_No…please…you're with me…you love me…you love _me_…don't go with him, please…._

"Ryou…" Bakura breathed. "No…"

He grasped his former Light's wrist, narrowing his eyes and forcing himself to look stern as Ryou continued to release his Ka. Biting his lip, Ryou whimpered slightly, but cracked open his closed eyes.

"Ryou," Bakura breathed. "No. Don't do it. It'll waste your energy, and it won't save me. You know it."

"Bring out your Ka," Ryou whispered. "Yami-sama, bring out your Ka."

"What? Why?" Slowly, Bakura's eyes widened. "Ryou…it'll never work…Diabound's a creature of Darkness, you know that…he'd never be able to harness…the power of your Ka…"

"Yes he can," Ryou whispered.

Slowly, Ryou bowed his head, sniffing quietly. A small smile slowly graced his lips, and he opened his eyes further, staring down at Bakura with the same eyes that had stared upon Amane long before.

"Believe it or not, Yami," Ryou whispered quietly, his small smile beginning to turn discreetly sad, "…I always knew what you were like. Your memories after…after Battle City…I saw them too. I know what Diabound can do. And I know he can do this. I know you can do this."

The other merely blinked, and gradually shook his head. "Ryou…Don't," Bakura breathed. "It'll waste your Ba. It'll waste your energy. It'll do nothing."

"It'll do everything," Ryou whispered. "Keep it, Yami-sama. Please. If this is all I can do…as a brother…as an onii-chan…please…" He gently leaned his head down, and gently pressed his forehead against Bakura's. "…Take it," Ryou whispered. "Please…nii-sama….take it. It's all…it's all I can give…it'll be enough, I know it will be. Just please…Bakura…for me…for Amane…take it."

Slowly, the Change of Heart hybrid began to disappear, dissolving in a shimmer of light. Gasping, Ryou arched his back, his strength clearly weakening. Little by little, as the angel-demon hybrid began to dissolve, the snake-head-tail of Diabound began to appear, transparent and translucent at first, but steadily glowing brighter as the other Ka slowly faded.

Weakly, the snakehead of Diabound laid its head on Bakura's waist, but clearly regaining some strength from Ryou's sacrifice. The snake slowly slithered from Bakura's waist to around Ryou's knees, nuzzling him softly in thanks.

Smiling weakly, Ryou closed his eyes. The Ka of the angel-demon hybrid and her heart slowly evaporated, beginning with her skirt, then climbing up to her shadow, and finally, the angel-demon hybrid shattered into the air, and vanished from sight.

Gasping softly, Ryou fell back, his eyes lying shut and his figure limp. The snake end of Diabound reared back a bit, clearly upset at Ryou's comatose state. It even reached over gently to nuzzle him again, as though hoping to awaken him. When Ryou did not even stir, the snake gave a sad wail, slithered back behind Bakura, and disappeared from sight.

Slowly, Bakura shook his head.

Suddenly, Marik strode forward, stopping short in front of Bakura. Stooping down, he picked Ryou up and threw the Light over his shoulder, as though merely a sack of potatoes. Growling, Bakura attempted to stand, but Marik as soon as he moved, Marik drove his foot deep into Bakura's ribs for the possibly tenth time that night, drawing blood from Bakura' lips.

"I'll come back for you later," Marik hissed hatefully, watching as Bakura landed again on the ground. "I need to put someone in his place. If possible, I actually think I hate Ryou more than you now. Who is he to take your side and love you? Who is he to disobey me and heal you?"

Grinning weakly, Bakura looked up at Marik, his eyes clear and cruel…but also strong and proud.

"Who is he?" Bakura whispered. "My ototo."

* * *

PLEASE DONT' TELL ME THER'ES SOMETHING WRONG WITH THIS CHAPTER. (sobs) I've been going through three different emtoinal breakdoewns for three different situations, and it's just too much for me right now...(burst out into tears) And I have FOUR FREAKIN REVISIONS OF THIS ONE CHAPTER AND IT'S MESSING UP MY MIND AND I'VE GOTTEN NO SLEEP AND...(breaks off in tears and begins to weep uncontrollably). WAAAAH.

...pwease read and review. please? make me happy?


	15. Lovers' Spite

Thank you all, reviewers, for being so supportive. I tried my best to quickly update in thanks...also, I warn that I may not see you all for a while, as I have much work at home to catch up on. But I will update whenever I can. Thank you so much, reviewers. You all mean so much to me.

Sunday13, marikslildevil, kasbaka, Karmi, Elle-Fatex, Y.BakuraY.Malik fan, Saffron-Starlight, Misoka, redconvoy, starskittle430, Rapturous Voice and Phirost (I LOVED your Christine x Erik fic.) Marina-Kashu, NubianQueen413, andyouthinkimcrazy,belle...Kat1132, SamiRyousHikari...Clo-vecseer...all of you. I thank you all and many others for being such wonderful and constant reviewers. And Rocy...thank you for your review. It meant a lot to me that you wrote it because of your standards. Thank you. You all mean so much to me.

And now I bring you..Chapter Fifteen. You can even tell from the chapter title that it's not going to turn out great.

* * *

Chapter Fifteen: Lover's Spite

_Cold. It was so cold._

_So lonely…so dark. Blackness swirled about, almost in a dizzying manner. Icy chills ran and tingled, before biting harshly. _

So…cold… 

Whimpering softly, Ryou weakly opened his eyes. Blurry vision met him weakly, and, making a face, Ryou blinked a few times. His eyes felt burned…scratched and hot…and his cheeks felt sticky and hard. Sniffing, he groggily reached to his face to wipe away the remnants of his tears, when he realized something.

There. When he moved his wrist…something stopped it. Even though he jerked at it a couple of times, it did not release him; merely making an accompanying, cruel "clink clink" sound every time he tried.

Thoroughly confused, Ryou sat up a bit, squinting in the direction towards his hands. Strange…why was he lying on his back? Why was he so cold? Shivering, he brought his right wrist close to his face and attempted to inspect it, despite his blurred eyesight. Blinking a couple more times, Ryou's vision finally returned. When he got a proper look at what was shackled around his wrist, he gave a start, and hastily looked around him.

He was chained to the wall.

Though the chains were loose and long, they were clearly strong. His ankles were also shackled the same way, the other ends of the chains stapled into the wall with thick, wide, square metal platters. His robe lay in the corner behind him, scrunched up and flecked with blood. His head was sticky with the similar substance, and his back was flaming.

What…what had happened?

Thoroughly frightened and terrified, Ryou immediately backed away into the corner, trying his best to drape his robe back over his otherwise nude body. Around him, candles flickered ominously, casting an oily yellow upon the cold stone surfaces that surrounded him. The rough tiles of gray looked hard and unfriendly; their surfaces were scraped to grimy pebbles. A stone altar stood in the middle, flat and rectangular, appearing more as a stone table than an actual altar. Baskets of coal flickering with fire stood on posts next to each corner of the stone table, but other than that, he was alone.

And oh, how Ryou hated to be alone.

Whimpering softly, he backed away into the corner until his back was pressed hard into the wall, the chains clanking loudly at his every move. Why was he imprisoned? Where was he? What was going on? Where was Marik? How was Bakura?

"Ah. Awake, I see."

Startled by the voice, Ryou turned about to his right, and was even more terrified to see who was standing before him.

Marik cocked his head slowly to one side, as though analyzing Ryou's current state of body and mind. The boy looked utterly frightened and terrified…his face was pale and tinted with grey…blood trickled from his mane of messy snow-white hair…his hands were obviously clammy, since their white knuckles were showing as Ryou gripped his robe protectively around him. Yes. Ryou looked quite frightened. After all, he was supposed to be.

Swallowing, Ryou backed away a bit further, fearful of the dead gleam in Marik's eyes. Those eyes…they were no longer…warm and calm…soothing and comforting…enrapturing and capturing…enchanting and breathless. No. They were dull…blank…empty. If there was any emotion within them, there was only the flicker of amethyst…the flicker of ominous rage, looming insanity. Approaching death.

Weakly, Ryou shrank away from Marik's approaching silhouette, whimpering and holding the robe close to himself. Even when they had first met on the blimp, Marik had not been so ominous. Those nights when he first visited Ryou…they never had that gleam in his eyes…that hollow yet evil gleam in his eyes…

Finally, Marik came to a stop in front of Ryou, staring down at him piercingly. Whimpering, Ryou scrambled back again, despite the fact that his back was already pressed to the wall. Curling into himself slightly, Ryou shrank away a bit, one hand clutching protectively at his locket.

"M-Marik," he whispered, swallowing. "W-What…. what's going on?"

Somehow, something told Ryou not to ask Marik to release him. Somehow, something told Ryou that Marik himself had put Ryou here…after all…he did say something dark about his fate after Ryou stood up to him with Bakura…

."Bakura! Where is he?" Ryou suddenly cried, turning his head from side to side in desperate attempt to find his yami, suddenly realizing that Bakura was not in the same room as he was. "Where is he? Nii-sama! Nii-sama! Where are you? Nii-sama!"

A hand promptly threw itself against Ryou's cheek, and his desperate, frantic verbal search for Bakura was cut short. Crying out, Ryou immediately covered his burning and bruised cheek with his hand, whimpering softly as tears began to gather in his closed eyes.

"He's not here," Marik said shortly. "He's still at the cave. I brought you here alone."

"At the cave?" Ryou cried, his eyes shooting open and staring at Marik in horror. "Is he alright? Is he alive? What happened? Is he okay? Will he be alright? Is he----AH!"

His frantic questioning was abruptly cut short, however, when Marik raised his hand once more, and brought it down on Ryou's other cheek. Sobbing, Ryou held both hands over both his burning cheeks, bowing his head and crying at the pain.

"Don't you _dare_ mention his name in my presence," Marik hissed coldly. "If you do, know that you will be severely punished as a consequence. I don't want any more mention of either Bakura, Yami-sama, or even Nii-sama, or else you will regret it. Are we clear?" he barked harshly at Ryou. Sobbing, Ryou nodded weakly, curling up into a ball and hiding his face in his knees. Marik slowly began to smirk. "Good boy…after all, you and I need a bit of …_quality _time together. Isn't that right, my little thief?"

Biting his lip, Ryou nodded again, still crying into his knees. He was still confused…still hurt, still bewildered…so utterly bewildered! He still had not a clue as to why Marik was hurting him so severely, or why Marik seemed to treat him with hatred and spite.

Marik nodded with satisfaction, his smirk still in place. Turning around, he walked back and forth a bit, his feet rhythmically clapping against the stone floor as he paced about, slapping what seemed to be a leather riding-crop in one hand against his thigh. For a while, he continued pacing, occasionally snapping the riding crop absently, both hands behind his back, as though pondering something.

Suddenly, he whipped around, and forced Ryou's head up with the end of the riding-crop beneath his chin. Terrified, Ryou opened his tear-filled eyes, staring at Marik with fear upon his face.

"So," Marik said, his voice sounding rather calm, a bit devoid of malice. It was, however, still cold, and still hostile. "Answer me this, my little thief. Why do you think you're here?"

To emphasize his point, Marik tapped Ryou's bruised cheeks with the riding crop. Wincing, Ryou instinctively backed away from the thing, cowering in his corner. A much harder tap of the whip proved that Marik was growing impatient for an answer, and swallowing, Ryou forced himself to reply.

"I…" Again, he swallowed, his voice wavering and his eyes staring at the floor. "I…don't…know."

Another cry escaped his lips when the whip landed itself on one of Ryou's bruised cheeks. Sobbing harder, he scrambled away from it, hiding his head in his knees again and covering his cheeks with his hands.

"Not good enough," Marik replied coldly. "So you don't know why you're here, my little thief?" Ryou whimpered, and shook his head timidly. Marik nodded. "Would you like to know _why_ you're here, my little thief?" Swallowing again, Ryou nodded weakly, terrified that the riding crop might punish him again. It almost felt as though he was being interrogated…stripped of his human rights and humiliated into speaking.

Nodding with satisfaction, Marik smirked, and continued to pace. Even though he could not see Ryou's face, he knew that the little Light was growing more and more nervous, and more and more terrified. Making a particularly large _slap_ with the whip against his thigh, Marik strode back to Ryou, and forced the Light to look at him once again.

"You are here," Marik whispered, "because you disobeyed me. You are here, because of treason, and betrayal. And why are you here of treason and betrayal? Do you know?"

Whimpering, Ryou averted his eyes, nodding weakly. Again, Marik tapped the whip against his cheek, to emphasize that he was waiting for an oral answer. Gulping, Ryou shivered and opened his mouth, but no words came through.

This time, when the whip was just about to crash down on his other cheek, Ryou covered his face with his hands and screamed, "Bakura! I'm here because of Bakura!"  
The whip abruptly stopped its descend. When Ryou opened his eyes, it was a mere centimeter away from his skin.

Smirking, Marik retrieved his crop again, the whip falling at his side.

"Good answer," Marik praised toyingly, tapping the whip against his leg again. "Now answer me this: _Why _were you there with Bakura?"

Whimpering, Ryou shivered again, curling even more so into a ball. "W-Well…I…when I woke up…you weren't there…s-so I went out…"

"So the moment I turn my back, you take it as a chance to find Bakura?" Marik finished coldly, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back a bit. "Pity, pity. I never could've imagined you'd be so unfaithful."

"I'm not unfaithful!" Ryou cried out suddenly, snapping out of his ball and staring at Marik with hurt disbelief. "I'm not unfaithful! How can you possibly think that?"

For a while, Marik stared at the other intently. His amethyst eyes remained locked upon their chocolate-brown target, which were wet with fear and pain. For a moment, Ryou thought he could see some sense in those amethyst eyes…something soft, something mourning…

However, the only reply Ryou received was when Marik raised the hand clutching the whip, and brought it down hard on Ryou's back.

The cold stone room then echoed, as though almost in mourning, of cries and snaps. The snaps were harsh and whipping, slicing through the air with an audible, '_whip_' before snapping hard on bare flesh. Sharp cries bounced from the stone walls, reflecting from the corners, seeking rescue, but finding none.

For a few more minutes, the only sounds present were the simple 'snap' and 'crack', followed by sharp cries and sobs. Slowly, the snaps and cracks ceased, and what remained were the quiet sobs.

Crying softly, Ryou curled into his defensive ball once again, sobbing into the floor. His back felt burning and raw, and his knees felt weak. The robe had shifted while the whip had tortured him, revealing a pale smooth shoulder without his knowledge.

Crossing his arms again, Marik stepped back, watching as Ryou sobbed into the floor. He regarded the other with a cool, heartless look, almost unfazed at the blood that was rapidly gathering and soaking through Ryou's robe.

"Never," Marik whispered softly, "talk to me like that again. Know that I am your superior, your master, and if you do dare talk to me like that in such a way, you will be thoroughly punished and put in your place."

Sobbing, but gritting his teeth, Ryou looked up. Who…who was he? Who was Marik to say such things?

Slowly, Ryou shook his head.

"No," he whispered.

Marik raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?" he asked coldly.

"No," Ryou whispered more firmly. He looked up, his eyes narrowed. "No. You are not my superior. You are not my master. And I will NOT be treated this way!"

"Oh, look, a palace brat," Marik sneered. "Seems as though I have to put you in your place again, _slave…_"

"I AM NOT YOUR SLAVE!" Ryou yelled. "I am not your slave! How can you say that? I'm a human BEING! You are not my master! You are not my superior! You're not even my yami! And I'm NOT your slave! I don't exist JUST to serve YOU! I'm not your slave! I'M…I'M YOUR LOVE! How can you treat me this way!"

"Oh, and some love you are," Marik snapped, finally revealing his anger. "One moment I turn my back and you're off to your sweet yami-sama…some love you are! You're nothing better than a slave any ways!"

Ryou gasped, his mouth falling open. "I am NOT!" he cried, aghast. "I never…I'm not in love with Bakura! Are you crazy? We're just…we're just hikari and yami…brothers, that's all! Marik, I love YOU!"

"No you don't!" Marik snapped bitterly. "Don't you dare say that! I know you don't love me. Who can love me? No one. I am MARIK. I'm not one to love! Who are you to love me? You don't love me! You're always with _Bakura_…in _Bakura's_ arms…talking to _Bakura_…"

"That was NOTHING!" Ryou cried. "We were just talking! That's it!"

"Oh?" Marik snapped. "And how do you explain your nakedness to him? Your massage? Your, 'I could never talk to Marik'? How do you explain those?"

"He was just helping me!" Ryou cried. "I was hurt, that's all, and he was helping me because I helped him…and don't be so hurt over that! I didn't mean…"

"Oh, sure, you don't mean it," Marik mocked, laughing harshly. "I don't believe you. This world is made up of lies. Lies, deception, and greed. How could I have possibly believed that you loved me? Of course you don't love me. You wouldn't love someone as cold and cruel as me. Of course."

"But you're not cold and cruel!" Ryou sobbed. "You…you're different now! You're not the Marik I knew back in Battle City. The Marik I knew then would never hurt me!"

"That's why he failed to finish the pharaoh!" Marik yelled. "Love is for WEAKLINGS. WEAKLINGS! Weaklings like Malik, weaklings like the pharaoh and Bakura. WEAKLINGS LIKE YOU!"

"You used to tell me I was not a weakling!" Ryou cried out angrily. "And I'm NOT a weakling! You're WRONG! Love conquers all! Love is strong! Love is everything I hold dear! Marik, _please…_!"

"SILENCE!" Marik bellowed. A quick wipe of the hand and he brought down the whip on Ryou's cheek once more. Crying out, Ryou slumped against the floor again, whimpering as Marik began to take out something from his pocket. When Marik held them in front of him, Ryou recognized them as…

…his dolls.

His miniatures! His Marik-and-Ryou miniatures! His token of love!

"Do you know," Marik hissed, "how much I've sacrificed for you? Do you _realize _how much I've done for you? Saving you all those times, nursing you back to health, _everything! _And this is how you pay me back? By running off with Bakura? By making these pathetic wooden TOYS!"

"They're not TOYS!" Ryou screamed, his heart shattering. "How could you say that? I love you! I made those to prove our love! Maybe I don't have sex to prove my love like you…but I made those for YOU! I spent MONTHS after you left for those! I LOVE YOU!"

"HA!" Marik snorted, throwing his head back in laughter. "You really thought all those times I made love to you, I was really making love? You really thought that all those times I said, 'I love you', I actually meant it? I didn't make love to you because I loved you! I made love because you were sexy and I wanted your body. That was ALL! That's what got me attracted to you in the first place! Your body!"

For a moment, Ryou was stupefied, his mouth opening and closing helplessly. Marik…Marik only…did he really…was that the only reason why…Marik ever cared for him at all? Just of a romp between the sheets?

_"I just wanted to show you…that I cared more for you than a romp between the sheets…"_

"You…you only love me for my BODY?" Ryou cried, shocked. Tears began to well in his eyes, falling uncontrollably down his cheeks. "You… you only loved me for my BODY? Am I just that? Just a toy to you? A slave? Is that why you made me your slave, Marik, when we first came? Is that the reason? JUST SO YOU COULD HAVE MY BODY!"

"Of course," Marik smirked. "I couldn't have anyone else taking my little thief, no. _I_ should be the only one to take your little ass. In fact, that's why I'm so upset at you with Bakura's. He shouldn't have your little ass. You're mine. You don't belong to him. You're faithful to me."

"I WAS faithful to you!" Ryou sobbed. "I LOVED YOU! How could you…how could you do this to me? I thought…I thought you…" Sobbing uncontrollably, Ryou buried his face in his hands. "I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME!"

Shoulders shaking Ryou slumped to the floor, hiding his face in his hands again.

"I thought…I thought you LOVED ME!" he sobbed. "You …you always said…you always…you protected me…you talked to me…you …you...I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME! YOU SAID YOU LOVED ME!"

"Of course I merely said it!" Marik snapped. "If I told you I wanted you for your body, you would've never stayed with me. You would've become someone else's, and I would've had to take you by force." Smirking, Marik strode up to Ryou and knelt before him, taking Ryou's chin in his hands. Strangely, though he should be upset, Marik was actually quite pleased. He wasn't sure why…but just…such a reaction…it made him pleased and made him wish to laugh long and loud.

It must be the insanity.

Taking Ryou's chin in his hand and forcing the crying Light to look up, he smirked again, his smirk slowly becoming far more wicked. Looking smug, he traced one finger down Ryou's cheek, following the tear trail and over the bruises.

"Well…I suppose that's why I finally decided to knock some sense into you," he laughed. "Going off with Bakura all those times…you could've been his. But no…no…once you're mine, you're mine forever, Ryou." With another sickening smirk on his face, Marik harshly bent forwards and captured Ryou's lips in a bruising kiss.

For the first time, Ryou felt angry. He never had been angry with anyone in his life…he hadn't even been angry at Bakura when Bakura had imprisoned his friends in miniatures. No. For the first time, Ryou's heart felt something other than pain, or sadness, or the shattering agony. Along with all those other terrible emotions, he felt anger.

Marik…so this was who Marik was! Marik never loved him! Marik never…he never cared…he never loved him…!

_But…but…all those times on the blimp!_ Ryou thought desperately_. All those times…the dinner, the dance, the rose, the notes, the locket, the bracelet…the things he said! He must've loved me! He must've!_

But the Marik now obviously didn't.

So without further ado, Ryou promptly opened his mouth wide in the kiss, and bit down hard on Marik's lips.

Taken harshly aback, Marik immediately released his lips from Ryou's, cursing loudly under his breath.

"What was THAT for?" he yelled, wiping his swollen lip with the back of his hand.

"That was for lying to me!" Ryou cried, wiping his own lips furiously. "You LIED! You LIED! All those times you made love to me…you didn't really love me at ALL, did you! Even though…even though you kept on SAYING that you loved me…I KNEW IT! I knew it all along! But you told me otherwise! I remember your exact words! You told me that you wanted to show me that I was more to you than a romp between the sheets! You said that! YOU PROMISED!"

"I did not promise ANYTHING!" Marik bellowed furiously, spitting blood on the floor. "You naïve little fool…how could you have possibly believed that I cared for you? I am made up of Darkness! Darkness, Hatred, Anger, Vengeance, and more! How could Darkness, Hatred, Anger, and Vengeance love? Of course they can't! You were a fool! You were nothing but a simpleton FOOL to believe what I said!"

"Of course I was!" Ryou cried back. "Now I know! I knew it! I knew it! You never cared for me! And yet…and yet I was FAITHFUL! I waited for you, Marik! I waited for you to come back! For the last five months I CRIED! All NIGHT! I kept on having nightmares of you being taken away from me! YOU PROMISED! YOU SAID YOU LOVED ME! YOU SAID YOU LOVED ME!"

"Tell me, my little thief," Marik hissed angrily, "exactly how many times have I said I loved you lately? NONE! Don't accuse me of leading you on like this! I never told you I loved you after I returned!"

"YES YOU DID!" Ryou sobbed. "WHEN YOU FIRST CAME BACK, YOU SAID YOU MISSED ME! YOU SAID YOU LOVED ME! WHEN WE MADE LOVE…"

"'_When we made love',_" Marik mocked. "That was the only time I would've said that I loved you. Why? Because I didn't want you leaving me! I didn't want you to give your ass to someone else! You know, I actually thought that 'loving you' was good enough, but apparently not! Once I turn my back…in my sleep, when I'm not there…you immediately run off to Bakura! That night, that night I made 'LOVE' to you, I SAW YOU WITH BAKURA! I SAW YOU! YOU WERE IN HIS ARMS! YOU WERE EMBRACING HIM! And then after that…IT WAS ALWAYS BAKURA! ALWAYS!"

"Well, maybe if you didn't insist on having SEX all the time, maybe I wouldn't have GONE!" Ryou yelled. "That's ALL you EVER wanted! SEX! SEX THIS! SEX THAT! RYOU, COME DO IT WITH ME! RYOU, I WANT SEX! THAT'S ALL THAT'S EVER ON YOUR MIND! IF YOU WANT SEX THAT BADLY, GO SCREW SOMEONE ELSE!"

"Ah, but you LIKED the sex," Marik hissed tauntingly. "You liked it, you little sniveling traitorous whore! You LIKED the sex! If you didn't, you would've fought me long ago! So don't be such a little tainted hypocrite, you traitorous whore!"

"I am NOT a WHORE!" Ryou yelled at the top of his lungs. "I AM NOT A WHORE! I AM NOT YOUR WHORE! I AM NOT ANYONE ELSE'S! AND I'M NOT TRAITOROUS! I ONLY HAD SEX WITH YOU BECAUSE I LOVED YOU! I THOUGHT YOU HAVING SEX WAS AN EXPRESSION OF YOUR LOVE! I ONLY DID IT BECAUSE I LOVED YOU!"

"A likely story!" Marik laughed. "You LIKED it! I know you did! You LOVED it! Oh, just the way you squirmed beneath me, just the way you _pleaded…_'Oh, please Marik! Oh, please Marik! Oh, PLEASE Marik! Oh, please MARIK!' And oh, just how you screamed my name…so long and loud…of course you liked it, you traitorous whore! You loved it!"

"I DID NOT!" Ryou spat furiously. This time, he stood up, clutching at his robe with his white-knuckled fists. "I DID NOT. In fact, you're not even that GREAT at sex, Marik! I only screamed because you wanted me to! I only screamed because I loved you! YOU'RE NOT EVEN THAT GREAT AT SEX, MARIK! YOU _SUCK_!"

Abrupt silence met Ryou's outburst, and for the first time, each panting lover stared at one another intensely, staring at nothing but one another's eyes. Marik's…they were wide and shocked and outraged, flashing anger and hatred stronger than any Ryou had ever imagined. And Ryou's eyes….they were narrowed, they were sharp…his face did not hold that same smile that many had seen, but a grimace of hatred that Marik had never seen before.

"You told me I was strong," Ryou whispered, his voice filled with anger and frustration. "You told me I was strong. You told me I was not a weakling. WELL YOU WERE RIGHT!" Ryou yelled. "I AM STRONG! I AM NOT WEAK! I MAY HAVE BEEN NAÏVE, AND I MAY HAVE BEEN INNOCENT, BUT I'VE LEARNED MY LESSON! NEVER TRUST A YAMI! NEVER TRUST A DARKNESS! YOU DON'T TRUST ME DO YOU? Did you know, I used to be like this too, when I met Bakura? Did you know, I actually FOUGHT Bakura once, but then he beat me right afterwards? Or can you NOT believe it, because you always wanted your Ryou BROKEN and SUPPRESSED and NAÏVE? WELL I'M NOT NAÏVE! AND I WILL NOT BE BROKEN! In fact, you know what?" Ryou bellowed.

"I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU MORE THAN LIFE ITSELF! WE'RE DIFFERENT! WE'RE DAY AND NIGHT! I HATE YOU! I HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE _HATE_ YOU! IN FACT, YOU'RE RIGHT! I LOVE BAKURA! I LOVE HIM MORE THAN YOU! IN FACT, I WANT TO DO IT WITH HIM! CAUSE YOU KNOW WHAT? MAYBE HE'D APPRECIATE ME MORE THAN YOU! MAYBE HE'D CARE FOR ME MORE THAN YOU! MAYBE…JUST MAYBE….MAYBE EVEN _HE'S_ BETTER AT SEX THAT YOU ARE!"

A stupefied silence met each end; Ryou shocked as to how he could've said that, and Marik, for being addressed in such a way. _He? Not sexy?_

For a moment, both of them stood glaring at each other, panting heavily and sending death glares. One eye of Marik's twitched considerably, and soon, three veins had found their ways to his face. One hand slowly tightened their grip on the dolls in his hand, feeling one of the miniatures crack beneath his pressure.

"You will _regret_ that," Marik hissed. "REGRET IT!"

"OH, and HOW?" Ryou asked spitefully. "Come TRY and break me! COME ON! TRY! I used to take martial arts with Amane when I was young! But of course YOU wouldn't know! You wouldn't WANT to talk about my '_pathetic sibling_' when you can just ROMP with me! Nooooo…."

"Shut. Up," Marik hissed. "You know what I think of your love, you pathetic, traitorous whore? You know what I think of it? I THINK OF THIS!" With a roar, Marik raised the fist clenching the two miniature dolls…the two miniature dolls Ryou had worked so hard for…and hurtled them to the floor.

For a moment, their descend seem to last an utter eternity…as Ryou watched in utter, heart-breaking _horror_, as the dolls…THE dolls…the dolls he had worked on for so many weeks and months in a row without sleep…the dolls that had been his memory of Marik's special gift on the blimp that day…the dolls that now slowly overturned in the air, spinning endlessly for eternity…before they finally came to a shattering '_crash_'at Ryou's feet. A crack in the miniature version of himself grew with a sickening 'snap'…before finally clattering at his feet.

For a while, Ryou merely stood there, staring in an utter trance at the dolls. Snorting to himself, Marik turned away from his lover, crossing his arms over his chest and breathing noisily. Stupid fool…utter stupid fool…

Hands shaking, Ryou slowly got onto his knees, his fingers trembling as he slowly reached out for his precious miniature dolls. Both of the wooden sculptures continued to smile at him; his own with a bright, tearful one, and the other's with the trademark smirk. Gently, he picked up his heart-kept dolls, holding them so delicately as though they were his own children.

Marik…how could he? Ryou…Ryou had made those for him! He had…he had done …he had worked so hard on them…even after all Ryou had said…deep down inside, he had been so _sure _thatMarik still truly loved him, that Marik would still treasure the only other gift Ryou had given him other than his body…

But no. Obviously Marik loathed him. Obviously Marik was right. Obviously Marik didn't care what happened to Ryou…whether or not he was upset or hurt or anything at all. Obviously Marik only WANTED Ryou's body, and nothing else. Just his body.

_"That's cute…wow… you made these yourself?"_

_"Yes, of course my little thief…of course I like them…"_

_"Do you think Marik will like this? I hope so! I mean…he's done so much…he's done so much for me…"_

_Not anymore,_ Ryou thought bitterly. _He hates me._

Squeezing his eyes shut, Ryou clutched onto his precious dolls. _He hates me…_

_"I'm just …just so happy, and I've never felt this happy before, and it's so new, and so different, and I don't know why I'm crying, it's just, I don't remember being this happy, and I never want to you to leave, I don't want this day to ever end and I can't believe that you actually care so much…"_

It had been so long since anyone had ever cared for Ryou. His mother…his sister…his father…they were all gone. It had been …just been so long…since anyone had ever loved Ryou again…for the happiest moments in his life, he had felt…complete. He had felt…full. He had felt…loved.

_"I can't believe you actually care so much…"_

Marik…he had….he had shown Ryou…what it had been like…to be in love. He had shown Ryou…he had loved Ryou…he had cared for Ryou! How could he…how could he be like this now?

_He hates me…_

Stifling a sob, Ryou squeezed his eyes shut, tears streaking down his cheeks. His shoulders began to shake. How could he? How could he? How could he do this? Ryou…Ryou still loved him…still loved him…why wouldn't he trust him?

_He hates me…_

His hands clutched hard on the dolls.

_He hates me…_

A sob escaped his lips. His chest began to fill with something. Something other than love. Something strange. Something dangerous.

_Well…._

His heart, though shattered, began to hate.

_I hate him too!_

" I HATE YOU!" Ryou screamed, sobbing uncontrollably. "I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU!" For a moment, rage began to build in his heart, something that he had never felt before. For a moment, he could feel the rage pouring out of his very soul…burning him, scorching him. He had never felt this way before. Such anger, such rage…such passion…how could Marik have betrayed his heart like this?

"I HATE YOU!" Ryou screamed again. And then…for a moment…his rage let loose, pouring out of him, scorching him…for a moment, he lost all sense of rational thought, and then, for just a split-second moment, he raised his hands, and hurtled the miniatures at Marik.

The two miniatures slowly soared through the air, twirling an eternity about along the way. As they neared their target, one of the wooden dolls merely spun over Marik's shoulder, however, the other was not so lucky. The white-haired, white-clothed miniature crashed squarely into Marik's head, and ricocheted the other way.

Immediately, Marik whipped around, an expression of utter rage on his face. He saw as the other miniature soared through the air on it's own, and before it could land in front of Ryou once more, Marik snatched it from the air, and brought it down to the ground.

The doll collided into the floor with a loud, sharp and deafening _snap._ The crack that had already developed slit through across the doll's slender, wooden waist, and promptly slit the doll into two. However, that was not all that met its misfortune, for it was then when Marik decided to raise his foot, and brought his foot down upon the helpless wooden figure.

A chorus of _snap, crack _and_ crumble _echoed beneath Marik's foot, and before Ryou could do anything else, the doll splintered into two more cracked pieces, and then laid forgotten.

Snarling, Marik retrieved his foot, his temper rising and his rage returning full-throttle. Ryou…Ryou had _dared_ to throw something at him? How dare he! The sniveling, pathetic, cowardly little _whore…_

Meanwhile, Ryou continued to stare at his beloved doll, his eyes wide and his face pale. His expression was a collaboration of anger, hurt, and most of all…sadness. For a while, it seemed as though he had truly lost his grip…staring at the doll, still and unmoving, as though made of wood or stone himself.

Marik…how could he have done that?

Gradually, Ryou came back to life, his trembling fingers slowing forming into hard, clenching fists. For a moment, he bowed his head, staring at the floor, while his shoulders shook and his hair hid his face. For a moment, all that could be seen was his trembling figure, and nothing more.

"You…I _hate_ you," Ryou whispered suddenly. "I _hate _you!"

Suddenly, his head snapped back up, revealing his wide, angry eyes.

"I HATE YOU!" he yelled. "I can't believe you just did that! I can't believe you just did that! After all I've done for you! I trusted you! I believed in you! I LOVED YOU! WHY CAN'T YOU TRUST ME? WHY CAN'T YOU BELIEVE IN ME? WHY CAN'T YOU LOVE ME?"

Choking back a sob, Ryou hugged himself, his white hands clutching unnervingly on his arms.

"After all I've done for you…" he whispered distantly, "…after all I've done. I should've realized before. You never cared before! Not at all! Ever since you came back…you did ask me…you hadn't asked me…not even ONCE…whether I was alright…whether I was okay…whether my family was alright or even how I was feeling…you never asked!" A sob escaped his lips. "I should've known…I should've known you'd never stay. Even all those times on the blimp…I never believed you. Everyone leaves me. Everyone! Amane…Mother…Father…everyone leaves me! Yami-sama left me! Yugi-tachi left me! EVERYONE LEFT ME!"

Sobbing, Ryou collapsed forwards, crying into the floor on his bended knees.

"I knew it!" he sobbed uncontrollably. "I knew it! No one can love me! No one loves me! I knew it! I knew you'd leave me sometime! I knew you would! WELL GUESS WHAT? I'M LEAVING YOU!" he screamed, snapping up. "I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU MORE THAN LIFE ITSELF! I HATE YOU! IF I HAD A CHOICE BETWEEN DEATH AND YOUR LOVE, I'D CHOSE DEATH! I'D RATHER _DIE _THAN BE WITH YOU!"

Sobbing pathetically, Ryou sat up, burying his face into his hands.

"Why?" he whispered. "Why? Why do you do this? Why are you doing this? I loved you! How could you be so rough?"

"You want rough?" Marik hissed suddenly, striding forwards. "I'll show you ROUGH!"

And with that, he grabbed Ryou's hair roughly, jerking Ryou's head back, forcing the Light to bare his throat. Glowering, Marik bent forward, his piercing eyes a mere inch away from Ryou's wet ones.

"You want rough?" Marik whispered. "You want to see me as I am? Evil, cold-hearted and murderous? Because I assure you, that's not all I am!"

With a wave of his hand, the chains around Ryou's wrists and ankles cackled free, before clanking to the floor. His hand still wrapped tight with Ryou's hair, Marik jerked on it hard, pushing Ryou forward and thrusting him to the altar.

"Get up!" Marik snapped harshly when Ryou fell. "You want rough? I'll show you rough!"

With that, he slammed himself into Ryou, causing the Light to stumble and fall upon the altar. With a smirk, Marik brought his hand down on Ryou's head, forcing the Light to bend over the side of the altar. With the other hand, Marik proceeded to grab the corner of the robe that had revealed Ryou's smooth shoulder, and proceeded to rip the entire thing from the other's form, leaving Ryou entirely bare.

"M-Marik!" Ryou cried, attempting to wiggle himself free. "Get off of me! Let me go!"

"Silence!" Marik snapped, backhanding Ryou across his bare rear. The Light winced and cried out. "You wanted to see me rough. Now I will show you rough!"

"Get off of me!" Ryou shouted angrily, twisting and thrashing against Marik's hold. "GET OFF OF ME!"

"Scream all you like!" Marik yelled, pushing Ryou onto the altar, despite the fact that the white-haired boy was fighting with all his might. "No one will hear you!" Hastily, Marik grabbed one of the chains that were embedded into the altar, and snapped it around Ryou's ankle.

"LET ME GO!" Ryou screamed, flailing desperately as Marik grabbed his hair once more and forced his face into the stone altar. "MARIK! PLEASE! LET ME GO!"

"Scream all you like!" Marik yelled again, climbing up and sitting on the back of Ryou's legs, sufficiently chaining the other ankle to the altar. "No one will hear you! The slaves and servants care nothing for you, and Malik's off trying to save Bakura! No one will hear you! No one who cares about you will come and save you! And you know why?" Marik bellowed, forcing Ryou's arms towards the remaining corners of the altar. "Because you're _nothing,_" Marik whispered into Ryou's ear. "_Nothing._ No one will come and save you. Not the servants, and not the slaves, and certainly not Malik. I know he won't."

"If he's off to help Bakura," Ryou spat, still fighting against Marik's hold, "then good for him! At least HE knows some common sense! GET OFF OF ME!"

"SILENCE!" With a final blow to the head, Marik managed to chain both Ryou's wrists to the remaining corners of the altar.

With an ugly look on his face, Marik raised his hand high, and promptly brought it across Ryou's bare flesh. The Light cried out and writhed in pain, panting heavily as he felt his skin turning red.

Smirking, Marik slowly bent down, so that his lips were slowly positioned of Ryou's ears. Discreetly, one of his hands began to snake beneath Ryou's chest, while the other slowly reached out towards the baskets of fire.

"Do you know where this is, Ryou?" Marik whispered, his voice deceptively smooth. "Do you know where this is? Do you know where we are? This room and its altar and the torches? Do you know where we are?"

Swallowing, Ryou shook his head, though he gave Marik a sharp look from one eye. Smirking, Marik bent low again, while his hand slowly managed to grasp itself onto one of Ryou's nipples.

"This is where…I first got my initiation," Marik whispered. "On this very same altar, tied the very same way you are now. And oh, can you imagine the pain I went through for that, my little thief? Can you imagine…a white-hot burning knife, slitting down the back of your spine…can you feel that, my little thief? Can you almost feel the pain?" Chuckling darkly, Marik harshly twisted Ryou's nipple, forcing out a shocked and ragged cry from Ryou's lips. "Oh, I'm sure you can feel pain," Marik whispered fondly, pinching the nipple this time. "Can't you? But oh, I'm sure…your pain is different. No…it's not what I went through, is it? Not physical pain, no…it's _emotional_ pain, isn't it? The sound of your heart shattering, the agonizing fire in your chest…the pain of heartbreak. That's the pain you're feeling, isn't it?"

Grinning darkly, Marik slowly threw his cloak to one side. As he grabbed his dagger from the basket of burning coals, the other hand slowly discarded his own sarong, until he himself lay fully bare, hovering above Ryou with a knife in his hand.

"You know, Ryou…" Marik whispered softly, "…I told you before already. Once you're mine, you can never become someone else's. In fact…why don't I give you your punishment now…just so you understand?" Slowly, Marik grinned, his eyes flashing insanity within them. "And do you know what's your punishment, my little thief?" he whispered softly, noticing with intense glee that Ryou's eyes widened fearfully.

"M-Marik…don't you dare…" Ryou whispered. "Don't you…dare…do that…you would never do that…not to someone you used to love…"

"Oh, but I never loved you," Marik said off-handedly, resting the tip of the dagger onto Ryou's back. "Couldn't you tell?"

"Marik! Please stop---AH!"

Suddenly, Marik had brought the dagger down, dragging the burning hot tip into Ryou's skin. Fresh tears spilled down Ryou's cheeks as he sobbed and thrashed and twisted and screamed…the pain…the hot burning pain!

"NO! MARIK! STOP! PLEASE!" Ryou begged, thrashing still against the chains. "PLEASE, MARIK! PLEASE STOP!"

But the other did not heed his cry, merely continuing to drag the burning dagger down Ryou's back. Slowly, minutely, Marik forced the dagger about, slicing through his former lover's skin as though the other were merely nothing.

"MARIK!" Ryou cried, panting hard. "PLEASE! MARIK, PLEASE STOP! IT HURTS MARIK! PLEASE, IT HURTS!"

"Do you want me to stop?" Marik asked calmly, proceeding with the next few letters. Sobbing desperately, Ryou nodded, still thrashing about helplessly.

"YES! PLEASE! PLEASE MARIK! IT HURTS!" Sobbing hysterically, Ryou continued to thrash about in desperate attempts to escape from the knife. Oh, by the gods….the pain! The endless, torturing pain! So hot, so burning, so SCORCHING!

"MARIK!" Ryou sobbed. "MARIK PLEASE! PLEASE STOP!"

"THERE!" Marik finally yelled triumphantly, casting the dagger aside. Smirking, he bent forwards again, slipping his lips next to the sobbing Ryou's ears. "Do you know what it says, my little thief? Come now, take a guess."

But Ryou could only sob, the firing pain that scorched his back flaming back too terribly for him to reply. Exhausted and sobbing with agony, Ryou slumped to the altar, too weak to reply to Marik's question.

"Let's not get speechless now," Marik grinned sadistically. "Tell me. What do you think it says? Come now, tell me."

"I—I don't know," Ryou whispered pathetically, gasping with pain. It hurt even to breathe. Marik tsked, as though disappointed. However, when he bent downwards again, his eyes…his eyes held an insane fire within them…an insane fire that was no longer amethyst, nor fiery red. If anything, they were flickering _white_.

"It says you are mine," Marik whispered softly, watching with sadistic glee as Ryou's eyes widened in humiliation and horror. "Yes…that's right, my little thief. It says you're mine. That's my name, scrawled across you back right now. Now no one can take you away from me."

"You….you…" Ryou choked out, whimpering and crying in eternal pain and agony. "You're SICK!" Ryou sobbed. "LET ME GO! I HATE YOU! LET ME GO!"

"Still stubborn, aren't you?" Marik retorted coldly. "Don't you understand? You're mine now. I can't possibly let you go. Or do I have to show you that you're mine in a different way?"

"I HATE YOU!" Ryou screamed again. "I DON'T CARE! LET ME GO! LET ME GO NOW!"

Growling, Marik raised himself on his knees, and swiftly backhanded Ryou across his wound. The wound glistened a bit, the blood glittering in the dim light, spattering across the scrawled, torn name of _Marik._ The name glistened wickedly in the light, almost just as wicked as the next few blows that Marik bestowed upon the same wound, over and over, until Ryou's pain-filled screams slowly began to grow weak.

"Call me master," Marik whispered, slowly settling himself between Ryou's legs. "Call me master now!"

"I…" Taking a deep breath, Ryou swallowed, his fire and determination still not fading yet. "I will NEVER!" Ryou cried, suddenly breaking down into more tears, his entire defenses collapsing. Oh, how miserable he felt! Humiliated, interrogated, and tortured…by his own LOVER! How could this have happened? He could feel his heart shattering again, crying and wailing mournfully into the night. It wasn't heart-breaking like when Marik left…no. No. It was much worse. Much much worse.

_I trusted him,_ Ryou thought miserably. _I trusted him! I loved him! All those times…all those times he spent with me…how could he not love me?_

As though he had read his mind, Marik smirked triumphantly, laying a hand on Ryou's bare rear. The Light twitched and let loose another sob, unaware of what his former love was going to do.

"You know…all those times I made love to you…" Marik whispered, "…I guess you really must've thought I loved you. But now I ask you this…" Smirking even more so, Marik tightened his grip on Ryou's thigh, bringing forth another cry from Ryou's throat. "Where is the love in this, hm?" And with that said, Marik promptly thrust himself deep within Ryou's passage.

A blood-curdling scream escaped Ryou's throat this time, unaware and unprepared for the pain that was now scorching back through his rear and up his spine. The healing muscles of his insides immediately tore open once again for the unexpected invader, blood trickling out in torrents from his entrance. With every strength he still possessed, Ryou fought hard against the chains that shackled him to the altar, screaming his pain and his agony. His heart tore into more and more pieces, shattering about once more and embedding its pieces in his chest.

Blood flew from Ryou's lips, and his chest heaved furiously and desperately for air. His lungs suddenly constricted, and his back reared with fire and agony. His breaths were erratically cut short, while his pained lungs fought and fought to bring in air. And all the while, Marik watched and watched…watched as Ryou writhed in desperate pain and agony, whimpering and screaming and begging for help.

"Can you feel the pain, Ryou?" Marik whispered, watching as Ryou continued to scream and thrash about in utter torture. "Can you? The pain that now fills your entire body in endless torture? Well…I'm feeling it too," Marik whispered coldly. "I'm feeling it too. I felt it when I saw you with Bakura. THAT is the pain I felt when I saw you with him. THAT is the pain that reared in my chest and fogged my mind. THAT is the pain that has put you here now! And for that, you deserve this pain! You deserve this torture! You deserve your punishment and MORE!"

Roaring with indescribable rage, the Shadows pumping endlessly through his veins, Marik reared himself back, and slammed himself hard into Ryou once more. The boy below gave out another scream, even louder and more inhuman than before, but Marik paid them no heed. If anything, the screams fueled him further, fueled his rage, his insanity, the Shadows within him…fueled him enough to continue slamming into the lover he had once caressed, the lover whom he had once danced with…the lover who had cared of him, and he return back…

_STOP! _cried the little voice in this mind. But the little voice was so quiet, and fading now. So weak. _Stop! It's Ryou! DON'T HURT RYOU!_

But again, Marik paid the little voice no heed, and harshly brought his hips down onto Ryou's. The screams were slowly fading to his ears…tuning out and silent…as though the screams could never penetrate his barrier…his hard, cold barrier…

For a moment, Marik finally stopped, not even noticing the blood that was freely flowing from Ryou's entrance and from his back. He watched as Ryou slumped into the altar again, sobbing weakly and choking on his own breaths.

What a pitiful sight.

"Call me master," Marik whispered. He raised his hips again. "Call me master NOW!"

And after one more, final thrust, Ryou complied, his scream echoing throughout the even the corridors of the empty labyrinth.

* * *

Please don't hate me for this chapter. I had warned lots of angst ahead. And there is more angst, I assure you. Far more angst. A fluffy scene angst, a torture scene angst, and then more fluffy scene angst. For those who really miss the Never knew One Marik, he's still in there. And he's coming soon. But I think Ryou's scarred for life now…

I'm sorry I was so upset for the last chapter. I had a nervous breakdown in many occasions lately, and writing up such a complex chapter was so hard. I thank all of my reviewers and I want you to know how much I appreciate and love you all. I just hope that this chapter was also met to your expectations…I'm not good at non-consensual scenes. Especially when it's almost twelve at night.

Actually, I didn't like this chapter. I thought I could get the effect of a morbid Marik, as I can easily do with a disturbing Bakura, but I couldn't bring myself to describe so much of everything through Marik's point of view. The initiation was supposed to be the 'morbid' scene, or the 'disturbing' scene to prove just how deep into the Shadows Marik is, but that was extremely difficult to do. All in all, I think this chapter was really corny. However I promise I'll try to make my next few chapters better, because I won't be updating so fast in the near future. (I have …math to do..really. I need to do six or more pages a day. cries) That leaves me more time to put lots of effort into the fluff scenes, because the fluff scenes are going to be really hard to do.

I hope I hadn't disappointed anyone. (bows in apology) Again, I thank all of my reviewers and all of you for being so supportive. I really don't know how to thank you all. Perhaps…if some of you truly request it…maybe I can write a one-shot for a couple of you guys, if you really wanted it as a sign of my gratitude. Just an idea though…I really don't have lots of time to spend on the computer…

Thank you all, once again. (HUGGLES) If there is anything I can do in return…just ask. :)

Lots of love. I love you all, my readers!

-AL.


	16. Reconsideration

Chapter Sixteen: Reconsideration

Slowly, Malik gently wound the strip of linen over Bakura's arm, winding it snugly against the bruised skin of the thief. Distantly, Bakura looked away, waiting patiently as Malik continued to gently dress his wounds.

Grimly, Malik let out a sigh, continuing to dress the wound with melancholy and despair. At the sigh, Bakura turned his head about, and gazed at him inquiringly from one eye beneath his bangs.

Sighing again, Malik shook his head, tucking the end of the linen strip into Bakura's wrist. "It's nothing," he said off-handedly, reaching for another roll of bandages. "Really."

"Don't give me that," Bakura said sharply, though his voice was still quiet. "You're worried about Ryou, aren't you?"

"Who wouldn't be?" Malik asked bitterly, reaching for a bowl of water and setting it in his lap. Slowly, he wetted his fingers in the bowl, swirling them absently with the strip of cloth that laid within it. "I should go back soon," Malik whispered distantly. "I _need _to go back. Marik…I told you what he said. He's going to make Ryou pay. And it's not even Ryou's fault."

Sighing, Bakura sat up a bit, reaching over and grabbing Malik's wrist. The blonde blinked his eyes and reverted them back to Bakura's, blinking questionably and eyes shining with tears.

"I know," Bakura said softly. "That's what Marik came here for. But I don't want you to go. Not yet. If Marik is capable of doing this to me when his temper is at its highest, who knows what he'll do to you?"

"I don't care!" Malik spat angrily, clenching his fists. "He's going to hurt Ryou! I know he is!"

"And then he's going to hurt you," Bakura finished firmly, tightening his hold on his lover's wrist. "Malik, listen to me. Don't blame yourself for what happened. It's not your fault."

"Yes it is," Malik cried bitterly. "He told me! Marik told me that he was going to hurt you and Ryou!"

"It was understandable you'd go back to the labyrinth to check if Ryou was there," Bakura whispered harshly. "But don't go blaming yourself because Ryou was here. I should've protected him myself, but I couldn't. Malik, don't hate yourself for this."

"I do hate myself," Malik whispered bitterly. "I should've been here sooner. I know I should've!"

"It's not your fault," Bakura whispered. Gently, he reached forward and laid his hand on Malik's head, running his fingers through the other's silky golden strands. For a moment, Malik stared at his bowl, his shoulders shaking as he determinedly tried to hold back his tears. When this failed miserably, he let out a wail of utter despair, and collapsed into Bakura's arms, crying into the night.

* * *

Slowly, Marik extracted himself from Ryou's bleeding passage, watching intently as Ryou continued to sob and writhe pitifully beneath him. They had been at it for hours already…hours and hours of eternal agony and pain and torture. What was once Ryou's smooth, unblemished back was now streaked with welting red lines, some bleeding and some swelling. His wrists and ankles were scraped and red from attempting to escape too often, and for some other rather odd particular reason, blood was also trickling from his lips.

But Marik gave no heed at all, watching and watching as Ryou collapsed onto the stone altar, crying and sobbing softly. No longer had he the will to fight, and no longer had he the determination to continue on. He had fought, but he had lost. Miserably.

With a smirk, Marik yanked himself out of Ryou's tattered entrance, ignoring the small, broken cry that escaped Ryou's lips. Smirking deviously to himself, he got up from the altar, wiping away the blood that coated his human torture device, the same one that had brought pleasure and ecstasy to Ryou not so long ago.

Wrapping his sarong around his hips again, Marik chuckled. "Had enough, my little thief?" he asked, laying a hand upon Ryou's thigh deviously. At the touch, Ryou immediately began to cry again, struggling weakly against the chains that held him to the stone table, but soon submitted in defeat, and whispered, "Yes Master."

Devious smirk turning triumphant, Marik gave a laugh, picking up his cape and wrapping it around his shoulders. "And what have you learned today, my little thief?"

Sobbing, Ryou swallowed, but replied in the same, weak voice, "A slave must not contradict a master."

"And…?" Marik prompted, casually twirling his riding crop in his hand. "And…?"

"And…" Again, Ryou swallowed, his entire frame shaking with pain and fear and humiliation. "And…that…a slave cannot leave his master…and must always obey…no matter what the command…or what the consequences are. A slave is a slave."

"And what do you say when talking to your superior?" Marik pressed, lightly tapping the riding crop on Ryou's shoulder. However, the Light had already been beaten enough by the thing to accept it, and immediately shot away from it as fast as possible.

"Master! Master!" Ryou cried, sobbing hard, terrified that the thing might whip him again. "Master! A slave says Master!"

Satisfied, Marik smirked again, retrieving his riding crop and slapping it lightly against his thigh. "Good boy," he crooned, petting Ryou on the head, as though the other was merely nothing more than a dog, "good boy. You've been a very good slave today, my little thief. Aren't you proud of yourself?"

Whimpering, Ryou nodded pathetically, hiding his face in the stone table. "Y-yes, Master," he whispered. "Y-yes Master."

Nodding with satisfaction, Marik gave his slave one more pat on the head, before turning around. Startled by the action, Ryou weakly turned his head towards Marik, and found the Egyptian heading towards the door. Immediately, Ryou's heart leaped in fear and horror…was Marik just going to leave him there, chained to the altar, to die and rot?

"M-Master!" Ryou cried, trying his best to get up. "P-please…M-Master! Where are you going? You…you're not going to leave me here, are you?"

"For now, yes," Marik replied calmly, not looking back. "I have some business to take care of. You just lie there for now and think about what you've done."

Ryou swallowed nervously. "W-where…. Where are you going, Master?" he whispered, feeling more and more miserable by the minute. "What shall I do while you're gone?" Again, Ryou swallowed. "M-Master?"

For a moment, Marik stopped. Arching an eyebrow, he turned around slowly, eyeing Ryou skeptically. The slave whimpered weakly, and attempted to back away from the piercing amethyst eyes that were now boring into him. Turning back around, Marik laid a hand on the handle of the door.

"If you truly fear me," Marik said calmly, "then pray." With that, he yanked open the door, and stepped through it. For a moment, he looked back, an evil grin creeping across his face. "Gods know that your beloved _nii-sama_ might need it."

Gasping, Ryou looked up at Marik in horror, but the other merely chuckled.

"So if you want to, go ahead and pray," Marik said, smiling. "Bakura's going to need all the help he can get. _All_ of it."

"N-No!" Ryou cried. Quickly, he attempted to get up, but failed miserably and collapsed onto the altar again, writhing in pain. "N-No…p-please…Master…don't hurt him…please…"

"I love it when you beg," Marik said off-handedly, still smiling wickedly. "You should do it more often. Maybe if I'm lucky, your _nii-sama_ might beg too. Goodnight!"

And with that, Marik shut the door, leaving Ryou chained to the stone table, drenched in nothing but darkness.

* * *

For a while, all Ryou did was lay there, sobbing and crying weakly, with no one to comfort him.

It was hard to describe the infinite, writhing pain that his body was forced to endure, but even harder to describe the infinite, writing pain that had continued to twist his heart, torturing it to no end, constricting his chest and forcing his breaths to nothingness.

Oh, how miserable he felt! How could…how could Marik have done this? The same Marik that had cared for him, caressed him, comforted him, and most of all, _loved _him. How could Marik have done this?

_I thought he loved me,_ Ryou thought to himself miserably. _I really thought he loved me. He must've! He must've loved me! _

Sobbing weakly, Ryou leaned his cheek against the cold altar surface, his tears trickling down endlessly and pooling beneath his cheek.

_Why does he hate me so? _Ryou asked himself wretchedly. _Why? Why! I didn't do anything wrong…I could've told him what was really going on with Bakura and me…he used to listen before…he used to listen a lot! Why won't he now? _

Moaning and coughing out flecks of blood, Ryou continued to cry, his anguish pooling out in hot, wet, trickling tears.

_I hate him,_ Ryou whispered, opening his eyes. _I hate him. I hate him for loving him. I hate myself for loving him. I loved him! I still love him! But how could he do this to me? How could he have left me? How….why? Why did he leave me? _

Squeezing his eyes shut again, Ryou buried his face into the altar again, sobbing long and loud.

_I'm afraid to love,_ he thought miserably. _I'm never going to love again. I'll never be able to live if I love someone again. Everyone I care for…they're always going to go, no matter what I do. I can't love anymore. I can't do it anymore. I'll die if this happens again. I know I will._

The darkness was about to consume him, but Ryou ignored it. He had been living in darkness too long already…if anything, this darkness was considered a relief…a blessed relief from the pain he was in. The blessed relief of unconsciousness.

_I'll never love again._

* * *

"Look, someone's coming," Malik whispered, pointing out of the cave entrance. Instinctively, Bakura tightened his hold upon his lover, knowing exactly who was coming at this hour of night.

Squinting his eyes, Malik's vision slowly began to focus properly, and when he saw who was approaching them, he cursed severely under his breath.

"Of all the Ra-forsaken _bastards…_!"

"Malik, calm down," Bakura instructed sternly, fighting to keep Malik from pouncing to his feet. "You'll never be able to win, just leave it me."

"Let me at him," Malik hissed angrily. "Let me at him. I'll show him! I'll beat him to a merciless bloody pulp and more!"

"And leave me with nothing to do?" Bakura teased, forcing Malik onto his lap. "Look. Leave it up to me. You want to help Ryou, right? And who knows more about Ryou than his precious _yami-sama_?"

Sighing with defeat, Malik relaxed into Bakura's lap, reluctantly leaning his cheek upon Bakura's shoulder. It wasn't like him to sit by and watch something happen, and in truth, it irritated him to no end. But the sound of Bakura's soothing voice helped soothe him, helped comfort him, that eventually, he submitted to defeat, and slumped against the thief.

"You sure you know what you're doing?" Malik whispered. "He's strong, you know that."

"I'm sure I do," Bakura replied dryly. "No. I'm going for a different sort of attack. No Kas, no blood."

Malik blinked and turned his head towards Bakura. "You're kidding," he said flatly. "You can't defeat Marik with no Ka an no strength."

Slowly, Bakura began to smirk, an evil twinkle in his eyes. Knowingly, he tapped himself on the forehead, making a show at Malik of thinking hard. "Hmn…I do wonder. Abet the fact that I am incredibly strong and dashingly handsome with one hell of a Ka, exactly what else am I known for, Malik?"

"Your twisted sense of morbid humor?" Malik asked, though he was beginning to smile a bit from Bakura's light attitude. "Your wiccanism way of summoning occultic spirits?"

Bakura tapped Malik on the nose. "Exactly," Bakura smirked smugly. "And not only that, I make excellent mind collages, don't you think? Dark Sanctuary is an excellent example."

"But that's not going to stop Marik, is it?" Malik asked, still thoroughly confused and wary. "What are you up to, Bakura?"

The thief feigned a great sigh. "What is it that I did to Ryou that made him look so distant, and so disconcerting?"

"Ryou doesn't look disconcerting," Malik said, blinking cluelessly. Bakura shook his head.

"Ever seen his eyes? Not as innocent and naïve as they seem, I assure you."

"Oh, fine, okay," Malik agreed, his patience slowly growing thin with Bakura's mind games. "So Ryou's a bit touched in the head, at least, in your standards. And what its it that you're doing to Marik that you did to him?"

Again, Bakura feigned a great big sigh, and Malik made a face of absolute frustration.

"Bakura!" Malik snapped. "Behave yourself. By the gods, Ryou's in trouble and Marik's coming up, and you still have the sense to play stupid mind games on me?"

Raising both his eyebrows in a smug, triumphant manner, Bakura poked Malik lightly in the nose.

"Exactly," Bakura whispered. "Mind games."

At that moment, a footstep echoed at the cavern entrance, and both of them turned their heads towards it. Indeed, there stood Marik, his face cold and emotionless, hard and sharp. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he was draped entirely of his deep amethyst cloak.

"Look who's back," Marik drawled coldly. Malik's eyes flashed.

"You…" Immediately, Bakura had to restrain the other from leaping at Marik, resulting in Malik furiously fighting himself from Bakura. "You sick, twisted, disgusting bastard! You're worse than you were in Battle City! Get away from us! Get away! Go! You're not wanted!"

"And neither are you," Marik snapped, striding forwards. "I'll spare your life, Light, if you leave Bakura to me. We need to settle certain _yami _business, if you please."

"You'll have to kill me to get through to Bakura!" Malik snarled. Bakura shook his head.

"Malik…"

"Fine," Marik snapped, reaching for his dagger. "Two for the price of one. Excellent."

Just when his fingers brushed along the hilt of his dagger though, something happened. White light flashed before his eyes, and before he knew it, darkness consumed him, and everything disappeared.

Blinking his eyes, Marik took a step back, his eye flashing warily from side to side. Blackness as far as the eye could see. If there was actually anything at all in the darkness's presence, it was the sense of slowness, grogginess, like one waking from a slow dream. Every motion of his body left luminescent remnants behind, as though he himself was a slow, moving dream.

_"Ah, the power of darkness. Don't you just love it, Marik?"_

Snapping towards the sound, Marik released his dagger, pointing it at the nothingness.

"Bakura!" he yelled. "Show yourself, now!"

_"Oh, but I am showing myself. Didn't I tell you before, Marik? I am the darkness. Nothing can destroy me."_

"Lies," Marik snapped. "All lies. I almost killed you if Ryou had not stood in my way. Now show yourself, NOW!"

A sigh as an answer. _"Oh, if you wish. So impatient."_

Slowly, a weak, flickering light began to evolve, pulsing weakly before Marik. At first, the yami reared his hand back to prepare for a strike, when the light slowly began to grow, and separated into two.

The first light was small, tiny, growing to the height of Marik's pelvis. Its shape slowly began to form, molding about a head, and rounded shoulders. Slowly and gradually, more and more of the light's form came to view, and eventually, the bright silhouette of the child shattered, revealing its true pigment beneath.

Ryou.

Marik did a double take, his dagger almost slipping away from his fingers. Ryou?

Small and childish, the Light seemed to possess the largest eyes Marik had possibly seen, twinkling and a deep brown, shining with timid fairness that for a moment, Marik lost his anger. The small Light did not seem to even notice him at all…if anything, the little boy Ryou was holding his hands close to one another, clutching at the large Millennium Ring that hanged over his chest.

Whimpering, the small Ryou took a step back, stumbling clumsily over his feet and landing on his rear end. Frowning with curiosity, Marik inspected Ryou carefully, and then directed himself to inspect the other flash of light.

Immediately, his eyes narrowed, and his lips were forced back into a snarl. There, stood before him, almost unbeknownst of his presence, stood Yami Bakura. Tall, slim, and looking not the least bit pleased, he continued to stare at the little Ryou, his narrowed blood-red eyes sharp and cold.

The little child Ryou whimpered, and slowly stood up, still clutching the Millennium Ring. At the motion, Bakura narrowed his eyes, and promptly turned around.

"Weakling," Bakura spat, beginning to walk away. Worriedly, the little Ryou followed after his yami, still clutching the Ring.

"W-wait!" Ryou cried, his voice sounding small and childish. "W-wait! W-who are you?"

"None of your business," Bakura snapped behind him. "Go back and play with your toys, sniveling child. I have no business to deal with you."

"Where's mummy?" Ryou asked desperately, still running after Bakura. "Where's mummy? And Amane?"

"Sleeping," Bakura replied dully. "Sleeping, okay kid? Now go back and play with your little toys, you little ouija board, and forget you ever saw me. I have no business with such a weakling as you."

"Are you an angel?" Ryou asked, naïve to the sharp remarks that he was receiving from Bakura. "Are you an angel? Daddy says mummy's turned into an angel…have you seen my mummy?"

"No, I have not seen your mommy," Bakura snapped loudly. "Leave me be, insolent child! I'm not an angel, hardly! And your mommy is _dead._ She's not sleeping, and she's not been turned into an angel, because she's lying dead somewhere beneath a pile of grass, turning into rot and sand. Now leave me BE!"

"B-but…" At this, Ryou's face fell, his colossal eyes beginning to well. "B-But…D-daddy said…"

"I'm sure you trust your father," Bakura snapped sarcastically. "Go ask your Daddy where your Mommy is, okay? Because I don't know. If anything, she might be rotting away right now, slowly becoming a skeleton like the ones they show you on Hallowe'en, or Bonfire Day. Now leave me ALONE, insolent child!"

"My name is Ryou!" Ryou chirruped. "Ryou James Bakura! I'm seven years old, and I don't have many friends…"

"I don't give a crap about your life, insolent child!" Bakura snapped again. "I know about your life. I know how it is. Yes, your mother is dead, and yes, your sister is dead too. They're all dead. Your father may as well be dead too, since he's not even there! Isn't a father supposed to comfort his child? Especially when they're lying _dying _in the hospital!"

"D-Daddy's…busy…" Ryou whimpered, shrinking into himself at Bakura's harsh words. "H-He's going somewhere tomorrow…on an ex-ka-va-shin." This, Ryou said proudly, having learned his new word. Bakura scowled and rolled his eyes.

"You don't get it, do you, you stupid child?" Bakura snapped again. "Nobody loves you. Nobody's there for you. Your mother is DEAD. Your sister is DEAD. Your father is leaving you because he's afraid that you might die too, the coward! Now leave me alone!"

"You can play with me!" Ryou chirruped. "I have an ouija board, daddy made it for me, and I have lots of candles too, and we can pretend we're in a scary movie, talking to ghosts and stuff…!"

"You're talking to one now, brat," Bakura snapped. "I'm a ghost. And I don't want to talk."

Ryou gasped, his eyes wide with surprise and awe. "You're a ghost?" he breathed.

Bakura's scowl deepened. "Yes, a ghost!" he snapped. "A ghost that's going to haunt your miserable life you don't leave me alone. Now GO!"

"B-but… we can play…I don't even know your name…"

Suddenly, Bakura snapped, and his hand arced through the air. The next moment, little Ryou was thrown back, small, childish body crashing into the black walls that surrounded him. Immediately, his eyes welled with tears, and his hands were covering the right side of his face, which was turning rapidly red.

Almost caught on instinct, Marik took a step forward to comfort the little child, but held himself back. This was…this was the boy who betrayed him! The boy who loved his yami more than his lover! Why was he showing any sympathy for this child?

But as Marik watched Bakura walk away and disappear, and Ryou continuing to cry, he frowned. Such innocence and purity…the child wasn't even afraid that Bakura was a stranger. He seemed so sweet, so honest…so much like the Ryou that Marik still knew, the grown Ryou, the older Ryou.

_"Hmn, no, I think you got that wrong,"_ Bakura's voice floated through the air, casual and light. _"Ryou's nothing like he was before. Maybe he still has a little bit of who he was deep inside, but I doubt it. You just don't see that smile so often anymore. And he's certainly a lot more shy now than he was before. I wonder why."_

"Shut up," Marik muttered dangerously beneath his breath. "Shut up. This is between me and you, not with Ryou. So stop showing me things that are pointless and escaping your fate!"

"_You're so touchy,_" Bakura's voice floated again. "_So whiny. Do you know why Ryou doesn't smile like that anymore? Do you know why he doesn't talk to people like he used to? Do you know?"_

"Be quiet," Marik snapped. "I don't give a damn about what happened to Ryou when he was younger."

_"Of course you don't," _Bakura replied sarcastically, his voice echoing in the endless, black abyss. _"No…that's why Ryou loves you so much, you know? Because you dominate him and hurt him like there's no tomorrow. That's why he loves you so much."_

"Shut up," Marik hissed, as the black abyss around him began to swirl. "Shut up shut up shut up!"

_"Do you know what was happening at that time, Mariku?"_ Bakura asked, mocking the name with a hateful twist. "_Oh, poor little Ryou, poor little, sweet lonely Ryou…mother dead, sister dead…and too overcome by grief, he was falling ill. In fact, I remember calling him a weakling at that time, to be so dependant on his loved ones to die without them. He has a tendency to do that, you know? When he really loves someone, if they go, usually he can't take it. He usually gets sick. Really sick…"_

Eye twitching, Marik slowly began to back away, as the black abyss around him began to form another image before him. This time, it was much bigger, much larger than the silhouettes of two people; if anything, it seemed to be reenacting what seemed to be a small room…

_"Ryou got really sick that time, when his mother and sister left. He loved being a big brother. And he was his mother's favorite. He got so sick it landed him in the hospital, probably pneumonia or something of the sort. Something including a fever. He always gets fevers. You couldn't believe how much he cried over _you_ when you left. He wouldn't eat. He wouldn't sleep. I was actually rather surprised that he didn't end up the way he did here. Maybe it was because he didn't care for you as much…"_

Slowly, the small room grew bigger, and clearer. Blue walls smoothed to a vanilla floor, lavender flowers plastered about in the most random of spaces. In the corner, stood a hospital bed, where a small bundle of pale skin laid. Frowning, Marik took a step forward, curious despite his anger adrenaline, and peered over the hospital bed.

Sick, pale, and an unnatural yellow color, little Ryou laid huddled beneath his sheets, breathing heavily and coughing occasionally. His cheeks were flushed bright red, and beads of sweat were trickling down his small, childish face. Needles and tubes threaded around his arms, inserted at his wrists and arms, refilling him with the fluid that he so desperately needed.

Sniffing, the child Ryou gave a wailing moan, and to Marik, it sounded like the most helpless sound he had ever heard. So helpless, so lonely…calling out for someone, anyone…and yet, no one came.

Obviously caught in a fitful nightmare, Ryou kept on tossing about, whimpering and wailing occasionally, as any child would in his situation. His mother, sister, nor even his father was to be seen around; the entire room was empty, except for him.

"M-Mommy…mommy…"

Scoffing, Marik rolled his eyes, turning away from the tossing child in front of him. So this was Bakura's ultimate attack? Showing Marik Ryou's most pitiful memories in order to evoke the Egyptian's guilt? Not a chance. Marik had no conscience, none at all.

"Mommy! Mommy! Daddy!"

Startled by such a sharp, sudden cry, Marik turned back around. The monitor that stood next to Ryou was beeping rapidly…too rapidly for Marik's liking. The child in the bed kept on thrashing about desperately, waving his little arms and wailing desperately to find his comfort. The beeping noise increased, and Marik did not like that sound at all.

_"Hm, sweet, a heart attack,"_ Bakura's voice floated casually in the mist. _"Seems as though Ryou always had weak lungs…a weak heart too. Just like his mother. Delicate, fragile…poke him and he'd bruise. That's how weak he was when he was younger."_

"Shut up, shut up!" Marik muttered madly beneath his breath, watching as Ryou continued to toss helplessly about his sheets. "Shut up, shut up…"

_"Want to play the hero now, do you?"_ Bakura asked, his voice still sounding silkily nonchalant. _"Well, you can't really save him now. He's just having another nightmare, the stupid little brat. For a kid who doesn't mind talking with ghosts, a small little nightmare gives him a heart attack. Smooth."_

"Why does he keep on having nightmares?" Marik whispered quietly to himself, watching helplessly as Ryou gave a small cry. The heart monitor next to him gave a much louder _beep!_ before he continued to writhe about, still seeking desperately for some relief.

_"Must be something about his emotions," _Bakura replied back off-handedly. _"He does that a lot, even now. Every time something traumatic happens, he tends to dream about it, and he can't seem to calm down by himself. He always needs someone, the dependant little brat. You can't believe how long he dreamt over YOU, Marik. I swear…I'm still amazed he got through it at all, he should be dead by now…"_

"Shut up, shut UP!" Marik bellowed. "You sniveling COWARD! Bakura, stop this insanity right now and fight me face to face like a man! Hiding behind your sick little mind games…get out here and FIGHT ME!"

A harsh bark of laughter. _"HA! I'M the coward?"_ Bakura laughed, his voice echoing into the darkness. _"Don't fool yourself, you vigilante-wannabe. Face it. You don't want to see these images of him, do you? You don't want to see Ryou's memories when he was younger. You're too afraid, too scared to reveal that you still care about Ryou, despite what you may have done to him tonight!"_

"I beat him and forced him to become my slave!" Marik yelled to the darkness angrily. "Of course I no longer care about him! Why should I watch these pathetic memories of Ryou if I no longer love him? He's nothing to me now! I beat him! I left him! He could probably be dying now, and do I care? OF COURSE NOT!"

_"You don't care?" _Bakura spat suddenly. _"Okay, fine. So you don't care what happens to Ryou, whether he lives or dies. Alright then. Sure. Watch then."_

Suddenly, behind him, Marik heard something. A flat, very flat, beeping sound.

Immediately, he whipped around to see what was going on. However, when he laid his eyes upon the occupant in the bed, he froze.

"This can't be happening," Marik muttered to himself. "He's alive…he's alive now…I know he is!"

The heart monitor's green line was no longer jumping. If anything, it was flat. Smooth. Dead.

Suddenly, a commotion burst before him, as he watched and heard nurses quickly crowd around the bed. A doctor dressed in a long, white coat immediately appeared, hovering over the limp body of Ryou, rubbing smooth disks together. As Marik watched, the doctor and nurses managed to revive the still form of Ryou, and when he heard the small, labored breathing of his former lover again, Marik couldn't help but sigh in relief.

"You're going to be fine," the doctor assured, his glasses slipping off his nose with sweat. "You're going to be fine. Wake up, little guy, wake up!" Gently, he shook the shaking form of Ryou, who was crying quietly in confusion and fear.

"D-daddy…I want D-daddy…"

"I'll go get his father," one of the nurses said hastily, darting away from the bed towards the door. The doctor nodded, signaling his approval as he continued to make sure Ryou was fine, despite his revival.

As Marik watched transfixed, one of the nurses leaned over to another, and distinctly ask, "Poor child. Has he no one?"

The other nurse shook her head. "No one," she whispered back. "His mother and sister are dead, in that car crash a few days ago. His father's away. I've never seen his father."

"Relatives? Any one at all?" the first nurse whispered. The second shook her head again.

"No one."

"No one?"

"No one."

_No one,_ Marik thought numbly. How terrible those two words sounded…how lonely they felt…how dumbfounding and numb…and even after the image of the hospital slowly began to ebb away to the darkness, the words still echoed in Marik's mind, throbbing, thumping, echoing. _No one._

_"He had no one,"_ Bakura said quietly, as though almost right beside Marik himself. _"Like someone else I knew…a long time ago…"_

Somehow, even Marik thought that snapping, "Was it you?" was much too cruel, even for someone as Bakura's stature.

_"Over the years, he changed,"_ Bakura continued, his voice soft, and distant, unusually so. "_His father did visit him at the hospital, to give him the Ring, to cheer him up…they did spend some time together, but Ryou had never been his father's favorite. I suppose they drifted apart after too long, and I suppose after so long, being friendless and lonely, Ryou grew not to trust anyone anymore."_

Once again, the darkness swirled before Marik, whirling about before him to form yet another figure. This time, it was a bit taller than before, though there was no bright light silhouette or shattering pigments of skin…instead, it was almost like a shadow…a growing shadow that slowly developed color, slowly developed light.

Gradually, the shadow finished its formation, and colors of white, blue and pale porcelain crept cross its figure. Long white hair veiled porcelain cheeks, shielding deep brown eyes and brushing blue-clad shoulders.

"Ryou," Marik breathed.

Indeed, it was Ryou. Older, more mature, roughly in his mid or later teens. A smile nearly crept across Marik's face. Yes…he did seem very similar. Same innocent aura, same naïve smile, same graceful, elegant air…everything.

Except…

_"His eyes,"_ Bakura whispered. _"Have you ever really seen his eyes?"_

His eyes. Ryou's eyes. Deep, rich, chocolate brown, dark and mysterious, twinkling brightly like any summer star. And yet…they were distant…very distant. Despite their large, effeminate, childish look, and twinkling joy and delight…they were distant. They were distant, far away, as though his eyes could only see what others could not….everything and nothing, at the same time.

There was no bright twinkle that shined when he was younger. And yet, though Marik knew of its lack of presence…he felt something. He _had _seen that twinkle not long before, when they were in Battle City…when Ryou had looked at him with longing and desire, with joy and passion, with care and love…yes. It was then when Marik saw that same twinkle the white-haired boy used to hold. That same, bright twinkle that had enchanted him, lured him, captured his heart not long before.

The soft-smiling Ryou closed his eyes a bit, bowing his head slightly in polite farewell. His manners were elegant and graceful, and his smile was bright and shy at he same time, but Marik knew that he was not laughing and smiling in his heart. Those eyes had longed proved it…the distance they shared and the sharpness for the world apart from the living….the distance of it all…they were mourning. Crying. His heart, despite all those years, was still crying, mourning, and only his eyes could show it. Nothing else.

Slowly, the silhouette of Ryou turned away, walking towards the core of darkness, which was slowly developing, once again, another scene. Blurred colors of sky blue and deep blue swirled and whirled about the shadows of darkness, and suddenly, the darkness echoed Ryou's voice.

"_Hello…My name is Ryou Bakura…"_

So soft, so quiet, so shy and gentle. Even when Marik had first met Ryou, he had never heard the solemn, quiet tint that was veiled, the small note of subdue sadness, unsettling and suppressed.

Another voice floated among all that, probably in response to Ryou. Seething, Marik realized it as Yugi's voice, and his anger turned full-throttle again.

_"Hi Ryou! My name is Yugi!"_

_"Hello, Yugi. It's a pleasure to meet you."_

_"Would you like to come over to the game shop after school? My grandfather owns one."_

_"Really? That's wonderful. I like games myself."_

_"Really?"_ echoed Yugi's voice eagerly, almost opposite of the soft, delicate tone of Ryou's. _"Which one's your favorite? Maybe we have some at the game shop and we can play."_

_"My…my favorite game is Monster World…"_ Ryou replied, his voice clearly shy, but filled with something different. Marik frowned.

_"Monster World? What's that?"_

_"A…an RPG game…you know, role-playing games…with a big board for the players, and you act like the character you choose…"_

_"Wow! That sounds like fun!"_

Ryou laughed, and Marik softly smiled. Yes, he had heard that laugh before…the same, twinkling one that was filled with innocent warmth, welcoming and friendly, no matter what the situation.

_"Yes….I suppose it is…"_

_"Maybe Jonouchi, Honda and Anzu and me could all come over sometime and play!" _Yugi's voice echoed eagerly. _"I'm sure we'd all have so much fun! When do you want…"_

Suddenly, Ryou's voice cut across, smooth but hestitating, as though he wasn't even sure himself of what he was about to say. When he spoke, however, his voice was so quiet, so soft…softer and quieter than normal, with a thin cover of fear and apprehension.

_"No…no…I don't think you should come. I mean, it's very nice of you…but I don't think you should come."_

_"Why not?" _Yugi's voice asked, clearly hurt. Curious, Marik took a step forward, eager to here why Ryou would turn down his first chance with making friends, if he had been lonely all his life.

_"Well…"_ Here, Ryou's soft, accented voice hesitated, and Marik could almost feel the boy fidget. _"You see…I tend to move around a lot…and, well…before, I did used to invite friends over to play Monster World…but…I don't think you should come."_

_"Why not?" _Yugi asked again, sounding worried this time.

Ryou took a deep breath, which was clearly heard by Marik, even though he could not see a thing among the swirling masses of blue and black shades.

_"Well…the thing is…everyone who plays Monster World with me…I'm not sure why, but whenever I invite friends over…they always somehow end up in a coma. That's why I move around a lot, I suppose, and I don't really want this to happen to you guys either." _Ryou sighed, and Marik could clearly hear the disappointment and pained longing of having friends over. "_Sorry."_

The sounds of clattering footsteps echoed into the darkness, which were clearly Ryou's, obviously running away back home.

Slowly, the shades of blue and black began to settle, slowly forming to yet another scene. This time, the room was incased in a soft, blue light, its walls a light shade of blue and the carpet a deep navy. In the corner stood a bed matching the same theme, but it seemed so dull, so pale, so plain, lacking of the occupant's personality.

In the opposite corner stood a desk, with a single lamp on. Working diligently beneath the lamp was Ryou, no longer smiling, who was working hard on a letter to someone. His eyes were slightly narrowed, and still as distant as ever, but they seemed to hold that brotherly mourning behind them, and Marik didn't need to guess that Ryou was writing a letter to his dead sister.

_"Dear Amane,_

_How is everything there? How is Mother? I'm fine here…Father's on a trip again, so I'm all alone again. But I've made some friends, and that makes me very happy. Are you happy? Tell Mum that I promise I'll do well in school, and that I'll take care of myself. Take care of yourself too, Amane. _

_All my love, _

_Ryou."_

Suddenly, a familiar voice echoed in the room, and immediately, Marik's attention was drawn to that familiar voice. Instantly, he took a step back, knowing exactly whom did that evil voice belong to. In fact, some growing part of him urged him to run to Ryou, even though he knew this was merely but a memory…a painful one, at that.

But Ryou hardly seemed afraid…or at least, as terrified as he seemed to be lately. His eyes darted to and fro his room in wariness, and though they shined with slight fear, they were not as frightened as how they had looked up to Marik that night. No….they were a wary sharpness that Marik had only seen when Ryou was yelling at him, crying at him, screaming at him…

"Who's there?" Ryou asked out loud, clutching the edge of his desk tightly. "Who are you?"

Again, that fiendish laughter. Panting slightly, Ryou narrowed his eyes again, before they widened in fear when something slid out beneath his bed. Staring at the flat box warily, Ryou took a few steps forward, using his toe to tentatively push the thing back in.

_"Putting your little ouija board back already, my landlord?" _the fiendish voice laughed tauntingly. Immediately, Ryou froze, staring in sweating horror as the voice continued to laugh. Swallowing, Ryou summoned his courage and kicked the box back underneath his bed, turning his face towards the ceiling.

"Who are you?" he asked.

Another laugh. _"The spirit of the Millennium Ring, naturally. And let me tell you, it feels good to be living within you, my landlord!"_

Eyes widening, Ryou began to fumble with this shirt, revealing the Millennium Ring that hung over his chest.

"You… the Ring?" he gasped, staring down at it in horror. "But…"

Suddenly, the Ring glowed, and its points began to move. They shivered in the air ominously for a few, silent moments, before all five pointers thrust themselves deep into Ryou's skin, blood splattering forth from his chest.

Letting out an agonized cry, Ryou sank to his knees, clutching at his chest. Blood dripped and pooled beneath him upon the carpeted floor, dotting the fuzzy material with its crimson splatters.

_"Now you can't take me off,"_ Bakura's voice echoed in the room, his voice filled with malice and insanity.

"N-No…" Ryou grated out, clutching at the Ring, in desperate attempt to pull it back out. "No…stop…!"

_"Don't be such a spoilsport," _Bakura admonished, laughing hard. _"My, you're so persistent for a host."_

"W-What…" Gritting his teeth, Ryou bent forwards onto the floor, almost curling up, pain scarred across his face. "W-What are you going to do…?"

Another laugh, before everything slowly began to black out. Shadowing tendrils began to curl their way into the dim blue scene, evaporating everything back to its original darkness. As the dark night began to consume what little light there was, the light of the Millennium Ring still glowed ominously, bright yellow and never fading.

_"Sleep, Ryou Bakura…"_ Bakura's voice floated deceptively. _"Sleep…"_

And just before everything blacked out, Marik could see the silhouette of his lover give a pained gasp, before slumping face-first onto the carpet.

Slowly, the darkness evaporated, merging and disappearing into the color of reality. Stone walls soon flushed to life, and pale yellow flames flickered back and rose the three shadows of the cave. When all of the darkness had finally disappeared, Marik slowly turned around, and fixed his gaze upon Malik and Bakura.

The thief had a nonchalant look about him, though his narrow, sharp eyes still did not look very pleased. It was quite obvious that he still highly disapproved of Marik's actions, but it still left Marik to wonder as to why Bakura showed him such memories. If it was obviously clear that Marik had no conscience, then why do it at all?

"So what did you do to Ryou tonight?" Bakura asked smoothly and coldly, wrapping an arm around Malik, who was still kneeling by his side. Shooting his darker half a deadly look, Malik returned to wrapping the bandage around Bakura's other arm, which was currently wet with blood. The thief gently rested his head against Malik's shoulder, and the Keeper couldn't help but smile softly at the other's affections.

Feeling disgusted by their obvious show of care, Marik briskly turned around again, though he couldn't help but admit that some part of him was jealous that the others were still sharing such wonderful interactions.

"Beat him, mostly," Marik said coldly. "He's my slave now. He will do everything I wish, and nothing more."

Bakura snorted, shaking his head in the crook of Malik's neck, tickling the other boy softly. "Bastard," Bakura muttered, closing his eyes and leaning against his lover contently. "Seems like every one likes to pick on Ryou. Me, the bullies at school, even _girls…_"

Marik's eye twitched, and a vein found its way upon his throat. "Why did you show me those images?" he demanded coldly, turning back to face Bakura. "You…you and your sick little whore, and your little lover…how can you still act like this, after all that's happened? Why did you show me those images?"

"Because you've always been a jealous fool," Bakura stated bluntly. "And jealousy and rage always blinds those from doing what is right. You're even jealous right now. Seeing me and Malik like this, it makes you think of all the times you spent with Ryou, and how you still long for that, and how you almost lost it when he wanted to become my little brother. And now, you're still jealous."

"I am not," Marik hissed. "Why should I be jealous of you, a petty thief who has nothing to his name?"

"And that's why you're so angry," Bakura retorted calmly. "Because I am just but a petty thief. You, as you claim, could even second to rival the pharaoh's power, and yet, here I am, the petty little thief, the pathetic duelist, the weakling spirit of the Ring, coming even closer to defeating the pharaoh than you. This is why you're jealous. You just feel inferior to me, that's all. And seeing Ryou becoming more fond of me rather than you, the one thing that you keep to your heart…it's too much for you, that's why."

"Don't you dare tell me how I feel!" Marik snapped. "You're nothing but a petty thief! Who are you to say about such things about me?"

"Yes, I do realize you were the Rod bearer, and therefore you should be the one to ransack my mind, rather than me ransacking yours," Bakura said tiredly, stretching his neck and resting upon Malik's shoulder. "But what's done is done. So you beat Ryou, did you? How badly did you hurt him?"

At this, Malik considerably tightened his grip on Bakura, and the thief could clearly feel and see the shaking of Malik's hands. Smiling softly, Bakura laid a hand on Malik's own comfortingly, and Malik buried his head into Bakura's chest.

Again, Marik watched this interaction of love with spite and revulsion. "Get a room," he snapped, when Bakura reached over with his wounded arm to stroke Malik's hair. "By the gods, your lovey-dovey relationship…it makes me sick."

"That's because you can't feel the love," Malik whispered softly. His fists clenched tightly. "Bakura's right. You've always been jealous. You were jealous of the pharaoh's power. Now you're jealous of what Ryou and Bakura have, and what Bakura and I have."

"I am not jealous!" Marik snapped. "Who'd be jealous of that? I'm certainly not."

"Yes you are," Malik breathed, still not looking up. "Ryou was the only thing you had left when you came back. Bakura finally surpassed you in fighting the pharaoh, so you couldn't make your comeback already. So Ryou was the only thing you had left….him, and his love."

"But you thought you lost it when Ryou came to me so often," Bakura continued, closing his eyes solemnly. "And hence, you got jealous, and tried to destroy whatever you though Ryou and I had together, in attempt to regain Ryou back…by force, and for vengeance."

"I…did not," Marik hissed venomously, though his voice was faltering slightly. "This is ridiculous!" he snapped loudly. "Quit playing your stupid psychiatric mind games, thief! I'm not falling for this. I have no conscience. I am merely Anger, Hatred, and Vengeance, and that is all! I've never felt love and I never will!"

"Then let me kill Ryou," Bakura said easily, looking up at Marik confidently. "If you really don't care for Ryou, then let me kill him. Gods know that I can't have him in this condition when I finally fight the pharaoh. I may as well put him out of his misery."

Suddenly, something inside Marik snapped, and his body grew rigid. Slowly, he clenched his hands into fists, his arms trembling slightly in attempts to restrain them from hurtling themselves into Bakura's stomach.

"You wouldn't," Marik breathed, his eyes so narrow they were almost hateful slits. "I wouldn't let you."

"Aw, so the great Master of Seme-Sama wants to save his little slave from death?" Bakura mocked cruelly, sneering at Marik with reckless abandon. "I thought you cared not for Ryou. Why the sudden change of heart?"

"Of course I'm not going to let you kill my slave!" Marik snapped. "He's mine alone to kill! I shall choose his destiny, whether or not he may live, so that he will always be at my mercy!'

"Oh? And does being at your mercy force Ryou to love you?" Bakura sneered spitefully. "The fact is, you want Ryou as your slave, not only because you want revenge and because you're so damned insecure, but because then it's CERTAIN that Ryou would no longer to anyone else. You'd be all he'd have. Making him your slave is an almost guarantee that he will no longer betray you, but the fact is, Marik, Ryou will hate you after all you've done to him!"

"Ryou can't hate," Marik snapped idly. "He's forgiving my nature. Of course he can't hate me."

"Did he scream at you?" asked Bakura questionably. "Did he yell at you? Give you this look that could've been passed for me? Cause let me tell you, Ryou can get upset. He can get angry. Usually it's an one-moment thing, when too much collapses on him, or when he's close to losing someone he cares for…which unfortunately tonight, could be you."

"So?" Marik snapped. "What does that mean?"

"It means," continued Bakura calmly. "That Ryou still loves you, but if you continue your actions the way you are, he will eventually either grow too terrified to ever love or trust anyone ever again, or he'll hate you for life, and you'll never regain your trust with him every again."

"He can't hate me for life," Marik argued back. "He can't hate in general."

"Oh, no, he won't 'hate'," Bakura agreed. "But he will ignore you, cry at you, sob at you, and yell at you for making his life miserable, because you are the only one he cares about right now. The fact is, you were the only one he knew that cared for him, and hence, you meant a lot to Ryou. To have you destroy the relationship that he had no longer had for so long…I don't know, but I think anyone would hate you for that."

"I certainly do," Malik whispered suddenly. He glanced up, giving Marik a glare from one narrowed, lavender eye. "I hate you," he whispered harshly. "I hate you. Ryou's like a brother to me. And you went off and tried to destroy him for something he didn't do. I hate you!"

"Everyone's like a brother to you," Marik spat at Malik. "Everyone. Which makes Ryou no different than the next boy who walks down the street. So why would you care? Plus, you were always ignorant of Ryou's needs. You were always with Bakura, and Ryou was always left as a third wheel. So don't you backtalk me, Light, because you're a hypocrite yourself!"

"Then tell me what you know about Ryou!" Malik snarled. "What's his favourite food, hm? What does he like to drink when he studies? What does he like to make? What does he do in his spare time?"

"Oh? And what about what he thinks, and what he feels when someone ignores him?" Marik spat back. "What does he do when people ignore him, and bully him? What does he say when they make fun of him, or when they pretend they don't hear him? Hm? What about _those_, hikari?"

But before Malik could retort something back, Bakura had smoothly cut through.

"Ryou's favourite food is cream puffs," Bakura said tiredly, as though by heart, "and he likes to drink hot chocolate when he studies. He likes to cook and make chocolate chip cookies, and reads and writes and when he feels very inspirational, he likes to paint and sculpt in his spare time. When people ignore him, he ignores them back eventually, and when they make fun of him, he walks away graciously, but cries and writes about it in his journal when he gets home. There." Bakura took a deep breath. "Alright. Now quit asking each other who knows more about Ryou, because firstly, this is a game _I'll_ always win, no matter what, and secondly, it's the matter of who knew more but did nothing about it. If either one of you had known so much about Ryou and cared for him so much, why did neither of you do anything?"

"What about you?" Marik snapped, agitated that Bakura knew more about Ryou than he did. "You knew everything of Ryou, as you so speak, and yet you did nothing!"

"I didn't care for him," Bakura replied calmly. "But you did, Marik, and obviously, you still do. You don't want me to kill Ryou because some part of you still doesn't want to loose him. But let me assure you…" Here, Bakura slowly got up, flexing his sore muscles. "…If you don't go back and change your ways now, Ryou might either hate you for life, or he'll die."

Both Marik's and Malik's head snapped towards Bakura.

"What?" both of them asked sharply in unison. Bakura sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"You saw, Marik," Bakura said, sounding somewhat exasperated. "When his mother and sister died, he almost died as well. I already told you. He's emotionally dependant on the people he cares for, and if they ever leave him, he could wallow in self-pity and die." Sighing, Bakura finally looked up, his bangs hiding his face, and showing just one eye, which was staring at Marik sharply. "He almost did when you first left, and Malik and I had to force Ryou to eat, sleep, and drink. He didn't want to live when you left. And if he starts feeling like as if you've abandoned him this time, it just might be too late."

As a dreadful silence fell upon them all, Bakura bent back down to pick up his cloak. Slipping on the crimson ware over his bandages, he gave another sigh.

"Don't pretend this is something corny and magical, Marik," the thief whispered darkly. "Because let me assure you, without you, Ryou will die. And by then…" The thief gave Marik another sharp look with one bloody eye, "…it'll be too late."

* * *

I have the feeling that I forgot to mention something very important to the plot…oh well. (shakes head) Thirteen pages. And that took me a long time. I hate scenes with so much dialogue. It makes everything so corny when you want something to be emotional. So, all in all, I thought this was a sucky chapter.

The next few chapters will be sucky too, since school is starting and whatnot, but once the sucky chapters are over, everything will be smooth and slow again, and (hopefully) very touching. Hope you guys all enjoyed this chapter anyways. It took me so long. T.T And yet, it was so corny. (sobs)

(dies)

Btw. for those who read "Destiny Prophecies: Sphere and Stone", I won't be updating as fast as I had promised, since this is a new computer and we're still attempting to extract files from my old harddrive without bumping into the virus that has curently hosted itself there. Sorry for the inconvience. I'll post up a notice on my HX account too.

(dies again)


	17. Cricket's Song

Umn...sorry for getting this up so late! Please forgive me!

Chapter is called "Cricket's Song" cause...er...well...Jiminy Cricket is a conscience, right, so... umn...some weird literary device there, I dont' know...(groans) TOO MUCH SCHOOL!

Darn, i really thought Marik was going to change...he needs some anger management clases.

* * *

Chapter Seventeen: Cricket's Song 

For a while, the Master of the Darkness sat upon the stone wall, one leg raised, which was resting his left arm. The other leg slowly drifted back and forth among the sand and the wind, silently and slowly, and deep, contemplative eyes stared into the darkness. Golden hair flew in gentle strands about the nape of his neck, exposing the deep, forlorn expression that now faced the night wind. In the distance, the night crickets chirruped, singing their violin melodies into the darkness.

Sighing silently, Marik's eyebrows furrowed slightly. In the hand that was resting upon his upright knee, were a couple of limp, random flowers, some of their petals already flying in the breeze. His dagger lay at his side, glinting as it rested innocently upon the surface of the stone edge.

So Ryou would die if he did not apologize, Marik thought. So Ryou would die if he didn't know that Marik still cared for him, still worried over him. Maybe even loved him.

Somehow, that didn't seem to strike Marik as forcefully as it should have. Sure, after he had left Bakura's cave (but only after he added more numerous bruises to Bakura's already rather noble collection) he had decided to think it over, mull it over, maybe even reconsider…but strangely…the idea of Ryou dying…it didn't seem to scare Marik.

Perhaps it was because he was already too induced with Shadow Magic, but it just simply seemed unbelievable. Ryou was forgiving by nature. How could he depend on someone so easily, if he forgave them just as trustingly? It just didn't make sense.

He had left Ryou before. He had. In the Shadow Realm, on the blimp, when he had first almost admitted his love…

…and yet…Ryou always survived them. Where was the possibility that he'd die now?

"There's no way that could happen," Marik breathed to himself softly. The flowers in his hand danced mournfully. "Ryou's strong. I know he is."

A petal flickered from its home, and soared into the night.

For a while, Marik continued to sit there, still pondering over Bakura's words. In truth, it wasn't like him to be so perceptive and patient…normally, he was brash and impulsive. But somehow, the soft voice within his mind had convinced him to at least consider the situation at hand. If anything at all, the soft voice seemed to almost have grown into a conscience during Marik's feud with Bakura…and was probably sitting on his shoulder right now.

_I think Ryou's still crying, _the soft voice said, his tone almost remarkably as quiet as Ryou's. _Maybe you should go home._

_I'm not going home,_ Marik thought snappishly to himself. _I have no home._

The soft voice on his shoulder tsked gently, and Marik just had to wonder whether he truly was insane or not.

_Ryou's your home,_ the little voice whispered tenderly. Marik made a face. He could almost _feel_ his conscience's legs swinging back and forth in a casual manner. But nevertheless, Marik maintained his hard, cold demeanor, and looked away towards the west.

_He's not my home,_ Marik thought distantly, his amethyst eyes clouding slightly. _I don't have a home._

The soft voice sighed.

_Such a tortured soul, _the conscience whispered, its voice filled with pitying mourning. _Please don't get bitter, Mariku. It's not healthy._

_I don't CARE, _Marik snarled back, quite literally snapping his head towards the right side of his shoulder. _I don't have a home. No love. No family. Nothing. No one can care for me, no one can love me. This world is filled with nothing but despair. So how can you actually believe that Ryou might care for me?_

The conscience gave another soft sigh, shaking its head mournfully as it curled up its legs to its chest. Granted, Marik couldn't even _see_ his conscience, but somehow, he knew…he just knew.

_Why can't you just trust him?_ the conscience almost whined. And yet, distinctly, that whine sounded very Ryou-ish. Very soft, very quiet…not very much beyond a token protest. _You used to. That's what love is, isn't it? Trust, honesty, devotion…_

_Yeah, well, love doesn't exist, _Marik spat. _That's how I know that I have no home and that Ryou doesn't care for me. So leave me alone._

_But you loved him before! _the conscience pleaded desperately. _Please, Mariku…_

"Shut up shut up shut UP!" Marik loudly chanted suddenly, covering his ears and closing his eyes. For any other bystander, he must've looked very childish, putting up such a tantrum-like play, but it was in the middle of night, and no one was around to see him lose his cool. "Shut up shut up shut up!"

_Why don't you add, 'I can't hear you' to that either?_ the little voice asked, rather dryly. _You're such a child, Mariku. You really are. And you won't admit it. You never even had a childhood, technically. You don't even know when you were born. Whether you were born when Rishid fell unconscious, or whether you were with Malik the whole time…can't you just let down your pride and just try…?_

"Shut up shut up shut UP!" Marik chanted loudly again. The little voice was driving him mad! And he _was_ mad enough…both ways…he didn't need his conscience flying about him like a sniveling harpy. He had enough voices to deal with already.

_Sure, listen to the Shadows, _the voice drawled, clearly having a tint of Marik-ness. _Like when you listened to them when they said to kill your father. Like when they said that the Pharaoh was to blame. When they said that Ryou---_

"Well, YOU'RE not helping!" Marik snapped scornfully, finally jerking his hands away from his ears and staring at his shoulder accusingly. The little voice made a little pause, shaking his head, and even managed to give Marik a _look_…Even though it was a voice.

_I'm already insane enough,_ Marik thought dully to himself. _Is this why?_

_Oh, don't blame me,_ the little voice suddenly snapped, a lot more Marik-ish. _It's your fault for listening to the Shadows all the time. You should be lucky you still have a conscience like me. You probably have the smallest one of them all. But Ryou created me…because he fell in love with you, and you fell in love with him. I'm the very proof that you once cared for him, that you still do. I'm your…er…light…figuratively._

"Oh gods, another hikari," Marik muttered, hiding his head in his hands. No wonder he was mad. The voice even gave a Marik-ish smirk, which turned promptly into grin as the voice seemed to move his arms apart…which again, Marik marveled, as the voice was a _voice._

_Don't be so prideful, _the voice chirruped happily. _Baku-san's conscience is THIS big, but he hides it. I swear, his conscience is so big, you'd think it could become his mother._

Despite himself, Marik snickered. The conscience gave a grin.

"How would you know how big Bakura's conscience is?" Marik chuckled quietly at his shoulder, breaking his first grin in a while. The little conscience beamed happily, and stood up on Marik's shoulder proudly.

_Ryou created me…er…well…your love for Ryou created me, and Ryou's love for you created me, so technically, I should know a bit about Bakura, just like Ryou's conscience should know about Malik. Or, er…something like that. But anyways! Yep! Bakura's conscience is BIG, Mariku, BIG. He hides it well though, and pushes it deep down, but if Malik is there, KABOOM, conscience wins over and Bakura always gives in. _Marik's own conscience gave a big grin. _I wonder how he's going to defeat the pharaoh like that…all Malik has to do is plead and beg and whine like a little puppy and Bakura's plan is gone. _

Marik snickered, his grin becoming a bit of a smirk. He shook his head.

"You remind me a lot of Malik," Marik snorted ruefully, running a hand through his hair. The conscience shrugged.

_Maybe I'm this strange conscience that's LIKE Malik…cause…I mean, now that you and Malik both have separate bodies, you guys now need to have two separate consciences…you should talk to Malik more often too, you know. I think Ryou would appreciate it too. But that's only after to convince Ryou you still love him._

"Ryou doesn't love me," Marik said softly. The Egyptian Darkness turned away. "And Malik and I will never get along, you know that."

Again, the conscience shrugged, but slowly sat back down on the Egyptian's shoulder. _Well…Ryou and Bakura never thought that they'd get along, but they did. Maybe you and Malik won't get along as well as Bakura and Ryou do, but hey, who knows more about Malik than you? You lived with him for er…some while…but I mean, come on, doesn't hurt to try. That way, when you get back with Ryou, Malik won't be so hot on your ass. And if Malik's hot on your ass, Bakura's hot on your ass. And if Bakura's hot on your ass, you're hot on his ass._

Marik made a face. "That sounds disgusting," he said, repulsed, as he turned back to face his conscience. "You're disgusting."

The conscience grinned cheekily. _You're perverted, so we're even._ Marik shook his head and growled softly, returning his head into his hands.

"Idiot," Marik muttered, and the conscience laughed.

Smiling softly, the conscience crawled his way to Marik's throat, standing up carefully as he did so. Glancing sympathetically at Marik's exhausted stature, the conscience sighed softly again, and gave his host a soft, little pat in the head. Not that Marik could feel it, the conscience was so small, but all the same, the conscience tried.

_Go back to Ryou,_ the conscience whispered. _It's so obvious you miss him. Bakura was right. You just went overboard. Ryou's forgiving by nature. But you have to do something to prove you still love him. After all…what would you do without him?_

For a moment, Marik was silent, staring in the darkness that his hands had created over his eyes.

Without Ryou? Even after what he had done, Marik actually couldn't imagine life with Ryou. Without his gentle touch…without his soft, warm body…without his moonlit smile and his sunny grin. His deep, chocolate, mysterious brown eyes… his pale smooth, porcelain cheeks…his merry twinkling laughter…what would Marik do….if Ryou was gone?

_I'd miss him,_ Marik suddenly thought. _I would miss him. I do miss him. Those nights I spent in the Shadows…the agony and eternity…watching him being taken away from me, over and over again…I was missing him too much…too much…and that's why I snapped…_

_…_

_I couldn't…_

Slowly, Marik lifted his head up, staring at the dark horizon. A thin line of gold had slithered its way across the horizon, glowing gold and spreading the night sky orange.

The sunrise.

Slowly, Marik stood up, his eyes staring distantly at the golden star. As the night wore off and the dawn ascended, light shone upon him like never before…its grapefruit pink rays strengthening and becoming brighter….scaring the shadows away and filling the day with light…

…Light…

_Ryou's my light,_ Marik thought distantly, as the bright yellow curve began to peak from the mounds of golden sand, swirling sparkly dust as it slowly grew…_He's my light. I've been living in the Shadows for so long…I had almost forgotten what Light was like…what life was like…_

…

A soft sigh exhaled next to him, and Marik slowly turned his head around. That sigh…it was a memory…a memory of the very first sunrise he had shared with his own special Light…

_"Oh Marik…it's beautiful…did you really wanted to see the sunrise with me?"_

And oh, how Marik remembered every note of that whisper…every uncertain, shy melody, every twinkle of touched merriment that had woven into its song. Yes, a song. The very sound of Ryou's beautiful voice was like a song…soft and smooth and so melodious, that even on the stormiest nights, it could calm Marik's heart.

But Marik knew that Ryou himself was weak. Weak in the sense of being small, but strong in the sense that he knew Ryou was resilient. It would take a lot for Ryou's light to die down, an awful lot…and somehow, that persuaded Marik that Ryou would not die…that Ryou's heart still cared for him, still loved him, and would still do anything for Marik.

And Marik knew…that while he was in the Shadows…that Light that Ryou created for him…the Light that had been his love, his care, his devotion…had almost distinguished while he remained imprisoned in a world of darkness. He had almost lost that light, that understanding to live, the comprehension of love.

But, although small, and although beaten by the Darkness itself, it still remained resilient, like his Ryou. It still flickered within his heart, like Ryou. And it would still glow in his heart…his love, his care…his devotion…and Marik knew, as he gripped the bouquet of flowers in his hand…as the sun ascended into the sky and night turned into day…Marik knew, that nothing could ever distinguish the love he still had for Ryou.

_That's why I snapped…_Marik thought distantly, as he took a step towards the east. _When I saw him with Bakura…that's why I snapped…because I knew…I couldn't…I just couldn't…_

Slowly, Marik walked towards the sun, intent on returning to his love. He would have a lot of apologies to make up, but somehow, he was certain Ryou would hear him out. A part of him still… the part that was still his pride…still feared that Ryou would reject him…but that seemed like a very small possibility.

I just couldn't… 

At the light, the bouquet of flowers flushed to life. And with light, so did Marik's conscience.

…_lose him again…_

And the crickets sang.

* * *

A dreaded _CREAK _tore Ryou from his slumber. 

Immediately, the broken Light began to tremble, fearing the torture that was ready to come. His slumber had felt like nothing. His arms and calves were sore from their attempted escape. His back was still bleeding, and his entrance was still crusted with the same copper substance.

Instantly, Ryou buried his head into the concrete altar, shutting his eyes tight in desperate attempt to avoid looking at his new master. Marik…he couldn't face Marik any longer! The pain of betrayal was still so hot, so sharp, so cruelly ruthless and torturing, that one look at Marik would bring tears to Ryou's eyes. No…no…he couldn't ever love Marik anymore…never…

A sharp snap of shackles unchaining broke Ryou out of his thoughts once again, and something soft was thrown in front of his head. Blinking weakly, he snapped up, bringing his wrists to his chest protectively. The sheer thought of being free even forced him to ignore the flaming pain that erupted when he sat up, blood trickling more heavily down his back and down his thighs.

"Well?" Marik's voice suddenly cut though, brusque and hard. "Don't you like it?"

Blinking, Ryou weakly looked up. In front of him, upon the stone altar, lay a tangled bouquet of lavender lilies, and forget-me-not blue petals. Desert orchids lay bruised on their sides, their stems bent out of place from being held too tightly. Leaves were crinkled and dried, and all in all, it looked like a pretty pathetic bouquet of flowers.

In truth, it was the best Marik could do on such unsure, and short notice. He had wanted to make it up to Ryou somehow…and yet, somehow managing to keep his pride at the same time. The flowers had been picked on his way home, broken from his clutching hands and clenching fists. But that's how he had always swooned Ryou before…gifts and words of affections…just add, "I love you too" and Ryou would fall for it, always…

But if anything, Ryou was staring at the bouquet, with a wide, unbelievable and fearful expression on his face. His hands were clasped tightly over his chest, his knees bent beneath him, pressed tightly against one another to hide his privates. His hair hung in limp, greasy tangles, and his eyes were puffy and pink.

Flowers? Was that all Marik had to offer now? Flowers?

As Ryou continued to stare at the limp bouquet, a part of him couldn't help but feel hurt and rejected and pained at the same time. He knew he should've been apprehensive, fearful…but yet, some part of him burst out into tears at Marik's attempt to cheer him up…was that all Marik thought he had to do? Give Ryou flowers and then everything would be alright?

"Well?" Marik snapped, somewhat irritated. "Are you happy now? Get off the stupid altar, let's go get you cleaned up."

Ryou didn't reply, his wide, chocolate orbs still staring at the tangle of flowers. Marik sighed heatedly. What was he doing wrong now? He had apologized, hadn't he? Given Ryou bloody flowers, released him…wasn't that enough?

"Look," Marik forced out, through gritted teeth, "…so maybe we had a little rift. But come on, just get off the stupid altar and we'll call it off. I got you flowers, didn't I? Now get off!"

Again, Ryou didn't reply. Temper flaring at the silence, Marik promptly strode forward, and harshly grabbed Ryou's wrists

"Look! I gave you flowers, alright?" Marik snapped loudly, yanking hard on Ryou's wrists. "Now get down! You should be glad that I'm doing so much for you! Get off, NOW!"

Suddenly Ryou came to life.

"NO!"

A pale hand swiftly came through the air, and landed hard on Marik's cheek.

Startled, Marik immediately released Ryou's wrists, snapping away from the other's touch. Another hand came the other way up to Marik's other cheek, but this time, he grabbed it with his own hand, and clenched his fingers tightly around its wrist.

"What are you doing!" he bellowed. Another hand came up to hit him again, but again, he stopped in midair. "What are you doing!"

"Leave me alone!" Ryou screamed, his hands tearing furiously at Marik's chest. "Get away from me! Leave me alone!"

"You insolent BRAT!" Marik bellowed, clenching his fists hard around Ryou's wrists to control his erratic movements better. "Stop this foolish outburst this instant!"

"NO!" Ryou sobbed. "NO! Leave me ALONE!"

Seething, Marik cursed loudly. In one swift movement, he crashed Ryou into a nearby wall, pinning the smaller boy into the stone pavement with his body. But even this did not deter Ryou from his pounding fists.

"NO! NO! Leave me ALONE!" Ryou cried out, his eyes squinted shut. "LEAVE ME ALONE!"

"SHUT UP!" Marik roared. Quickly, he thrust his knee into Ryou's abdominal, tearing a strangled, rasping cry from Ryou's lips. But the other continued to sob and weep in frenzy, his head shaking madly and his fists flailing as much as they could.

"NO! NO! Leave me alone! You don't care! No one cares! Leave me alone! LEAVE ME ALONE!"

"WILL YOU JUST SHUT UP?" Marik bellowed. "LOOK! I GOT YOU FLOWERS, DIDN'T I? BY THE SEVEN HELLS, I SHOW ONE MOMENT OF AFFECTION, AND THIS IS WHAT I GET?"

"You don't deserve ANYTHING!" Ryou screamed back, shaking his head, his lank hair whipping in the air from the force of his shaking. "I knew it! I knew it! You don't love me! I know you don't love me! That's how everything is for you, isn't it? Is that how I am? WEAK? SO WEAK THAT YOU COULD JUST GIVE ME FLOWERS, AND THEN I'D BE HAPPY? WELL I'M NOT!"

"UNGRATEFUL BRAT!" Marik roared in rage, slamming Ryou further into the wall, so that the other could hardly even breathe. "I COME BACK, THINKING I SHOULD APOLOGIZE, AND THIS IS THE REACTION I GET? YOU SNIVELLING, UNGRATEFUL COWARD!"

"I don't need your pity!" Ryou rasped out, his windpipe and lungs completely stricken. "I don't need anyone's pity! LEAVE ME ALONE!"

"FINE! FINE! BE THAT WAY, YOU UNGRATEFUL, PITEOUS WHORE!"

With all his strength, he threw Ryou into the ground, and promptly stomped hard on the other's chest. A sharp, coughing, rasping hybrid tore through from Ryou's bruised and cracked lips, his lungs completely emptied of air.

"BE THAT WAY!" Marik bellowed angrily, his rage returning full-throttle through his veins, pumping them to the point of red-hot steam, "BE THAT WAY! I COME HERE, THINKING I SHOULD APOLOGIZE, THINKING THAT MAYBE WE CAN BE TOGETHER AGAIN, BUT NO! I WAS RIGHT THE FIRST TIME! YOU ARE NOTHING BUT A SNIVELLING, COWARDICE, UNGRATEFUL WEAKLING OF A BRAT! I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT!"

With a man of insane strength, he drew his foot back, and promptly launched it into Ryou's broken ribs.

With a sickening crack, the smaller boy gave a strangled, pain-filled cry, his body arching and his ribs shattering further. But despite the exploding pain in his sides, Ryou continued to cry with anger, with disbelief…oh, how he just wanted to hit Marik over and over again!

"BE THAT WAY!" Marik bellowed again, throwing the flowers into Ryou's face, broken petals scattering across the other's hair. "FINE! GO! NEVER DARKEN MY DOORSTEP AGAIN! BE WITH BAKURA! I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHY I BOTHER! I COME HOME, THINKING MAYBE WE COULD BE TOGETHER AGAIN, BUT NO, YOU SPIT IN MY FACE AND ATTACK ME! I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHY I BOTHER!"

"Then---don't!" Ryou gasped out, tears streaming down his cheeks. "You n-never mean it! You a-always lie….just l-like last night…just l-like last night…" Clenching his eyes shut, Ryou gritted his teeth, and drew in a deep breath. "YOU DON'T CARE! I KNOW YOU DON'T CARE! SO DON'T LIE TO ME AND RUB IT IN MY FACE! YOU'RE WORSE THAN BAKURA!'

"_FINE_!" Marik bellowed with all his might. "_FINE! _GO! RUN TO YOUR PATHETIC YAMI-SAMA! NEVER COME BACK AGAIN! NEVER ASK FOR ME AGAIN! AND IF YOU EVER GET YOURSELF INTO TROUBLE, THEN IT'S YOUR _OWN DAMN FAULT! AND I'LL NEVER COME FOR YOU AGAIN! NEVER! YOU'RE ON YOUR OWN! FOREVER!"_

At this moment, Marik was about to launch another attack on his lover, when the door creaked open. The dark-haired servant girl named Arsinoe peeked in timidly, her blue eyes flashing worriedly.

"M-Master Marik?" she whispered tentatively.

"WHAT?" Marik snapped angrily, snapping around to face her. Instantly, the servant girl recoiled and hastily bowed in respect.

"I'm so sorry to bother you, Master Marik," she whispered hastily, quickly falling to her knees and bowing low. "B-But…there are soldiers outside the labyrinth, waiting for you…they want to talk about the Th-Thief King and…and…_him._"

Her cerulean eyes fleetingly darted to Ryou, who was still lying on his back, wheezing weakly and coughing blood.

Seething, Marik turned back around to face his former lover. Soldiers…curse the villagers! They must've had seen Ryou out at night…or even when they had walked through the village in the day…the idiot villagers…they must've had sent the soldiers to destroy Ryou!

_No…_the small voice in Marik's head whispered firmly. _No…I'm not going to let that happen…I'M NEVER GOING TO LET THEM GET RYOU!_

He turned back to the servant girl, his cold eyes narrowed and icily sharp.

"Go. I'll be there shortly," he said lowly, his voiced forced and deep. "I still have some…unfinished…business to take care of."

With a hasty bow, the servant girl gathered herself, and quickly left the room. Once the door had shut, Marik immediately returned to his former lover. Gathering a clump of Ryou's silver hair, the Egyptian harshly yanked the other off the floor, drawing a pain-filled cry from Ryou's crimson lips.

"I'll deal with you later," Marik hissed. "This is far from over. You will regret the day you did this to me, that I'll assure you!"

And with that, he threw Ryou back onto the floor, and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

For a while, Ryou continued to cry. But the newfound fire still remained in him, despite the many tears that rolled down his bruised cheeks.

_I knew it!_ he thought weakly. _I knew it! He doesn't love me! He'll never love me! I'll never love him! I'll hate him for life! _

Weakly, Ryou managed to heave himself up. His arms were trembling madly, and his back still flamed with pain, but to him…it was all but a dull numbing tingle. The adrenaline within him had surged him….made him stronger…but deep inside, Ryou knew…that these adrenaline was his end.

He was going to crack. He was going to break down. And he was going to do it soon.

But before he did that…

Gritting his teeth, Ryou weakly stretched up, using the wall as his foundation. The pain shot through his body with surging agony, but Ryou ignored it.

_He…hates me…_Ryou whispered to himself. _Hates me…absolutely hates me…_

Before he did that….before he would crack…

_I'll show Marik who's weak!_ he thought to himself, stumbling to his feet. The floor swayed beneath him, but he determinedly kept his foot. _I'll show him!_

With that set in mind, Ryou took a step forward, and reached for the door. His cloak laid next to him, and with the other hand, Ryou took the cloak and wrapped it around him.

He didn't care about Marik anymore. Not anymore. If anything, he was going to show Marik! Show Marik what he was truly made out of!

With that, Ryou wrenched the door open. Darkness pooled into the room, wading at his ankles, but he did not care. To be frank, he didn't care much at all at this point…he just had to run…had to get away…had to hide, had to fight…

With all his energy, he ignored his pain and his wounds, his mind set on just one goal. With all his might, he took a step forward, and headed off into the darkness.

He had to go to Bakura.

* * *

HOMG. 

I AM SO BUSY. Chemistry is the pits! And International Baccalaurette is hard! (groans) sorry for getting this up so late…what with my new romance life at home, (secret of course, what else? XD) and this fic, and ten pieces of homework each day, plus volunteer hours, I'm SWAPPED. (cries) oh well..please forgive me for such a rushed and hurried chapter…there's more, I promise…I just tried to get this out at soon as possible.

Read and review please! More reviews, faster updates! (collapses onto the floor) oh, school's a bloody MURDER…


	18. A Little Too Late

Chapter Eighteen: A Little Too Late

There, in the distance…. a looming mountain's crevice that glowed with a weak, oily light… his heart racing, and his lungs constricting, Ryou continued to run towards the cave in which he had spent his time with his brother, his mind dulling all his pain in his haze for comfort.

He didn't want to do this…he really didn't…he didn't want to run to Bakura for care and affection…he wanted to go to Marik…to Marik! But Marik…but Marik had left him…had hurt him…humiliated him and tortured him! How could he go back, after what Marik had done to him?

How could he ever trust Marik again?

And even though with every step he took, a sharp, agonizing pain would shoot through his backside and up his shoulder blades, blood spattering behind him as his feet pattered forwards, even though he could feel the aches in his spine and the bruises on this ribs…he ignored it. He felt as though by running, the pain would leave, would be left in the dust…but if he stopped…he knew…the pain would just catch up, and devour him completely.

Though shoots of agony shot up his calves and thighs as he ran his way up the pathway, the light in the cave kept him going. Bakura…Bakura…his yami-sama would be there…his yami-sama would help him...his nii-sama would help him…

As Ryou swirled around the corner of the cave and into the cavern's entrance, he stopped for a moment, staring before him. For a surprised moment, both Bakura and Malik, who were sitting on the floor of the cavern, stared up at their newest guest, blinking curiously. But that moment soon passed when Ryou exploded into tears, and burst into the cave. With all his remaining energy, he threw himself at Bakura in rapture, his arms wrapping tightly around his yami's neck and sobbing into the older one's shoulder.

Startled, Bakura merely froze for a moment, his eyes wide. "Ryou?" he asked hesitantly. But Ryou cut him off.

"TAKE ME!" Ryou screamed, clutching around the other's throat in desperation. "By the gods, please, yami-sama, TAKE ME!"

"Ryou!" Bakura stuttered, totally baffled. "Ryou, hikari---wha---"

"TAKE ME!" Ryou screamed again. "TAKE ME! TAKE ME NOW! TAKE ME! TAKE ME HARD! MAKE MARIK MAD! PLEASE!"

Sobbing uncontrollably, the hysterical Light scrambled to tear off Bakura's cloak, tears streaming down his cheeks and hiccupping all the while. During this time, Malik had backed off in total shock, watching dumbly as Bakura scrambled to do something to bring his Light back to his senses. By then, Ryou had already forced off Bakura's cloak in blind frenzy, and was yanking futilely on the other's sarong.

"TAKE ME!" Ryou screamed miserably. "TAKE ME! I WANT YOU! I WANT YOU NOW! I WANT YOU MORE THAN I'VE EVER WANTED ANYONE! TAKE ME NOW, YAMI-SAMAAA!"

"RYOU!" Bakura roared loudly, finally regaining his composure. Quickly, he grabbed Ryou's shoulder with one hand, while his hand firmly gripped the pale on of Ryou's that was still tugging aimlessly at his sarong. "RYOU, BAKA, STOP THIS NOW!"

"B-But…" Ryou continued to sob hysterically, fighting against Bakura's hold, "BUT I WANT YOU! I NEED YOU! I WANT YOU NOW! INSIDE OF ME! PLEASE, YAMI-SAMA, TAKE ME NOW!"

"Ryou, QUIT IT!" Bakura yelled, trying his best to keep his hysterical Light from ripping off his sarong. "RYOU---"

_SMACK._

For a moment, that sound echoed into the air, immobilizing those within the cave. When everything slowly slid back into focus, Ryou blinked weakly at his surroundings, utterly frozen, his eyes wide with fear. Before him, stood Malik, his hand still raised from the force of his blow.

"R-Ryou…" Malik whimpered, his hand shaking weakly in the air. "Oh, gods…Ryou…"

But to Ryou, the words seemed to fall to deaf ears. Yet, despite this, his unfocused, terrified eyes slowly began to grow back into focus, the deep color returning as comprehension dawned upon his face.

"Oh…no…" he whimpered, his voice small. "Oh gods…. oh gods…I'm…I'm so sorry…"

Realization flickered into his eyes, and for a moment, he merely sat there, his hand still gripping Bakura's linen skirt, while the other hand was frozen of his chest. When this second passed, Ryou suddenly shrank into himself and burst into helpless tears, his adrenaline finally collapsing upon him.

Weakly, Malik fell to his knees, his heart broken at the crying, helpless boy before him. Having no other idea to comfort Ryou, he gently slid his arms around the paler one's shaking shoulders, watching with deep sadness as the white-haired boy buried his face into his hands.

"Oh, Ryou…" Malik whispered, holding the other one close. "Oh Ryou…I'm so sorry…"

Shaking his head, Ryou hiccupped weakly, his sobs too loud and too helpless to allow proper communication through. Sighing, Bakura then scooted next to his Light, awkwardly slipping one arm over Malik's around Ryou's shoulder. The thief still looked rather confused at what just happened, but when Ryou gave a wail and hurled himself into Bakura's arms, the thief decided to focus his attention to the new situation at hand.

Gently patting Ryou's back, Bakura leaned forward a bit, feeling Ryou shake and tremble against his chest. Looking equally helpless, Malik simply sat down next to Bakura and gently began to stroke Ryou's back, so that soon, the thief was cuddling two miserable Lights at once.

Bakura grimaced awkwardly. He had never comforted Ryou before…only Malik, so to hold his Light so protectively felt strange and almost forbidding. But it seemed that at this point, he was one of the few Ryou seemed to trust, so he mustered up his courage, and sighed against Ryou's head.

"H-Hey…" he whispered, feeling very awkward, as Malik was sitting right next to him, head on his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Hiccupping, Ryou shook his head, his face entirely hidden in Bakura's chest. Instead of giving Bakura another answer, the former host gave another traumatized wail, his trembling increasing as his sobs grew louder.

Swallowing, Malik gently began to rub Ryou's back comfortingly, feeling equally vulnerable as the other Light.

"Ryou?" he whispered tentatively. "Ryou? Hey…come on…what's the matter? You can tell us. You can trust us."

But Ryou merely shook his head again, his muffled sobs cracked and broken as he clutched harder to Bakura. Sighing, both Malik and Bakura settled down comfortably, waiting patiently to calm their smallest companion.

* * *

Cursing, Marik stomped his way back to where he had held Ryou down. Of all the Ra-damned cursed things…must those guards be so inquisitive? "Oh, dear Master Marik, have you seen a white-haired boy that looks like the Thief King?" "Oh, forgive us, Master Marik, but we were looking for a white-haired boy that looks like the Thief King!" "Oh, Master Marik, please don't get mad at us, but have you seen the white haired boy that looks like the Thief King?" 

Sickening.

He had already had enough of Ryou and Bakura together…he didn't need some pompous captain-of-the-pharaoh's-justice-league to rub it in his face. Snarling, Marik slammed the door open, his mood very pissy. Deep down inside, he was also pissed that he had screwed up on his one chance to make things up with Ryou, but he was sure he could try again. After all, it was only his temper that needed control. If he could remain calm and listen to Ryou, then perhaps it would all turn out alright.

_I still love him,_ Marik thought solemnly, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes. _I still love him._

Those guards…he knew those types. Humiliating, despicable men. And the captain didn't look too friendly either. If they ever got hold of Ryou…. Marik clenched his teeth. If they ever got hold of Ryou, it wouldn't be pretty. Abominations and omens were the lowliest of lives in ancient Egypt. If Ryou were to be caught, Marik was sure that the guards would publicly stone him to death….if not more.

_I can't let that happen to him,_ Marik thought sternly. _No…I may have hurt him, and I'll patch things up with him. But I'm not letting them near Ryou! Never! I promised to keep him safe, and I will. _

Suddenly, Marik froze.

Ryou was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

For a while now, Ryou had been sniffling in Bakura's lap, as the former yami and Malik worked hard to heal Ryou's wounds. His sobbing had quieted down for a while. The only indication that he was crying at all were the small droplets of tears streaked upon his cheeks, and his small, tiny hiccups. 

They had all been silent for a while, ever since Ryou had regained some composure. The thief still had his arms wrapped around Ryou awkwardly, but Bakura pushed the feeling away by focusing on Ryou's wounds…often to force from thinking about Ryou's encounter with Marik, he would direct Malik to use different ointments and different balms. Malik, of course, had nodded mutely to every soft command.

Heaving a sigh, Bakura leaned back. The hikari in his arms gave another quiet sob, hiccupping again as he slumped against Bakura's chest. The ointment was doing well on Ryou's skin; though not powerful enough to heal it instantly, the ointments applied were numbing Ryou's pain, and most definitely, ceasing the blood flow.

Wailing a sudden wretched sob, Ryou collapsed and writhed against Bakura's collarbone, weakly whining when Malik accidentally bumped along a swelling whip wound. As an apology, the blond quickly slathered more cream on the burning skin, cooling it and easing it slightly of the pain. Bakura arched his eyebrow at Ryou, and gave another sigh, closing his eyes.

"So."

He paused for a moment, gazing at Ryou out of one eye to see if the other was going to respond. "So."

Sniffling weakly, Ryou peeked from Bakura's chest, his pink-rimmed chocolate eyes swelling with tears. Bakura arched his other eyebrow.

"So. What are you going to do now?"

Stopping momentarily, Ryou merely blinked up at Bakura curiously, his pink nose shiny. Behind him, Malik quirked an eyebrow curiously as well, but continued caring for Ryou silently.

Bakura gazed at his former Light piercingly from one eye.

"Well?" Bakura pressed, still staring down at Ryou, who was looking up defensively. "What are you going to do now? Your lover just beat the crap out of you, _again, _and you're over here, which I don't think will make the great Master-of-Seme-sama happy. So what are you going to do now?"

For a moment, Ryou merely blinked blankly, more tears spilling out of his eyes. After a while, however, he looked away sadly.

Bakura closed his eyes.

Ryou stared at the floor. What _was_ he going to do? Marik…he had almost betrayed Marik…again. He had almost made love to Bakura, willingly. He had almost hurt Malik. What's more, he had run away, disobeying Marik furthermore. What was he going to do?

_But…Marik…_a soft voice in Ryou's head whispered sadly. _Marik…_

Marik…had he truly come to apologize? Had Ryou been too hard on Marik? Those flowers…even though they were broken and obviously almost _dead_…still…if Marik had simply wanted to lie and get Ryou into bed again, there were far better ways to do it. It was already painfully obvious that Marik no longer cared for him more than some common bed whore, but if he had wanted Ryou back into bed, there simply were just…better ways do it.

Did it mean that Marik still loved him?

It made sense, somewhat. Despite that Ryou's heart was still shattered and in pain, it did make some sense. Marik…if he had truly cared for Ryou, he would've hated to let it show through his pride. Especially all that he had done the night before. Perhaps Marik had been truthful.

Ryou buried his head back into Bakura's chest. No. No. Marik hated him. He knew it. Marik had beaten him, hurt him, betrayed him, humiliated him, and almost left him for dead. Of course Marik hated him.

And yet….Ryou remembered something. His eyes…

When Marik had crushed him into the wall…Ryou had seen something in his lover's eyes. Though they were still the hard amethyst that they were when he came back, they were pained…sharp. Not piercing sharp, nor boring sharp. But…pained sharp. As though the very thought of Ryou brought too much agony. There were no more whites of insanity that were there when he had imprisoned Ryou…if anything, Ryou was sure that he had seen the faintest trace of mauve…lavender. The same, warm lavender that melted for him, that had cared for him, that had worried over him.

Was Marik truly being truthful?

Did Marik still love him?

Whimpering softly, Ryou curled up against Bakura's chest defensively. What was he supposed to do?

"Strange man, Marik," Bakura spoke suddenly to the air, as though to no one in particular. Ryou's eyes snapped open. "His pride is huge. I've never seen one so big before. Bigger than the pharaoh's. And more insane too. And pride and insanity don't go very well together."

Ryou blinked. Was Bakura mad? What was he saying?

Curious again, Malik looked up from his bandaging. The wounds were now a mere faint pink, some of them already attempting to seal up a protective layer of blood. No more of the copper liquid trickled down Ryou's back, and even though it was merely the second layer, the bandages were still white.

"Very strange man," Bakura repeated again, not looking directly at neither of the Lights. "Granted, he's a Darkness, so I really can't say much either. Darknesses are always strange."

Malik's lips twitched into a smile. Discreetly, he gave Bakura a puzzled, hesitant look, and Bakura merely nodded his head towards Ryou, and winked. Malik shrugged, and returned to bandaging Ryou's chest. He knew what Bakura was up to.

"Really?" Malik asked softly, his voice smooth, playing along as well. "Well, you were a Darkness too, before. I wouldn't really have called you strange."

"A euphemism for 'insane'," Bakura replied airily, waving his hand casually. Malik chuckled softly.

"You got that right," he replied quietly. "And for Marik? Of course naturally he's insane. What's that have to do with anything?"

Laughing, Bakura stretched himself, leaning back and exposing his chest. Malik rolled his eyes and smiled. Some things never changed.

"Well. Yes. He is insane," Bakura admitted. "But he's strange too. Does he have any pride Malik?"

"Yep," Malik replied instantly. "Big one too."

"Hmn. And has he ever used any sort of…acting skills or anything of the sort to get what he wanted?"

Chuckling, Malik shook his head. "No. You know what Marik's like. He'll go straight into battle as himself. He loves manipulation, but he always likes to have his victim knowing exactly what he's like. It makes him feel more infamous, that way." Again, Malik chuckled and scoffed. "As for acting…that's _our _thing."

Bakura's eyes glimmered mischievously. "Hmn, yes…of course, _Namu._"

Malik winked. Feigning a faint face of horror, one that looked remarkably to a damsel in distress, he held his hand to his chest and the other to his forehead. "Oh, there's a _voice _in my head! I'm _hearing _things! I think I'm absolutely going _mad!_" And with that, he feigned a faint.

Bakura burst out in laughter.

Narrowing his eyes, Ryou peeked around him. Bristling, he returned his face back into Bakura's back. He did _not _faint that easily! And of _course_ he knew Bakura wasn't _just _a voice!

Malik couldn't help smiling when he looked up. He knew Ryou was getting a little annoyed, but he couldn't help it. So much distress had happened in one night; he really needed an excuse to finally let go.

"You're right," Malik grinned, returning to tucking Ryou's bandages. "Marik would never even have the patience to pretend to be Yugi's friend. He's the I'm-here-and-I'm-going-to-kill-you type, whereas you and me are the entire, GASP-we-were-never-your-friends-fool! type." Malik grinned widely.

Bakura grinned as well, nodding. "Yes. I don't think Marik has ever really acted at all in his life. He's not a really sneaky person. I don't think he'd ever act like _anything _to get what he wanted."

Malik shook his head. "No no…I don't think so. What about you, Ryou?" Malik asked suddenly. "Did Marik ever act or anything like that when you knew him? Did he ever lie to you?"

Weakly, Ryou looked up. For a moment, he merely looked between Malik and Bakura, who were simply grinning. With a slightly sad and bitter look, he returned his face to Bakura's chest again.

"Apparently," he whispered.

Instantly, both Malik's and Bakura's smiles slid off their faces, and each of them slowly looked away. Sighing softly, each of them sagged their shoulders silently. For a while, none of them said anything, until Malik finally spoke up.

"Well…you still don't know that, do you?" Malik asked Ryou quietly, gently laying a hand on the other's back. "I mean, yes, I admit, I hate him and I loathe him, but…you still don't know whether he still loves you or not, do you?"

Eyes swelling with tears again, Ryou opened his eyes. Malik took the other's silence for a no, and with another sigh, sat down next to Ryou and leaned over to hug him.

"It's okay Ryou," Malik whispered comfortingly as he wrapped his arms around the other's waist. "It's going to be okay."

Ryou sniffed and shook his head. "No it isn't…" he whimpered. Bakura heaved a great sigh, and roughly ran his hand through Ryou's hair.

"Look, hikari," the thief sighed. "Are you sure that he doesn't still care for you? I mean, I will admit, yes, I hate him, and yes, I loathe Marik, and yes, if I got had the chance, I would've killed him straight away. But…" Here, Bakura inhaled deeply again, as though steering himself to say something inconceivable, "…the only reason why I didn't do so before, was because there was something different about him. Yes, I know, I did warn you and I did tell you to be careful, to make sure that his love for you was genuine, but Ryou…how do you know if it's hatred, or if it's just the Shadows?"

Ryou's eyes widened. Slowly, he looked down, staring at the floor intently. Marik…was it possible that Marik had only lost his temper? Was it true that Marik still loved him?  
A hand gripped Ryou's suddenly, and he looked up. Lavender eyes looked back, wide and pastel through golden bangs.

"Look at this," Malik whispered firmly, holding up Ryou's left hand. "Look at this." He pointed to the little band that adorned Ryou's ring finger. "Look at this. Marik would never have given this to you if he hated you. Even though I know, I had told you also that Marik would not love you, I don't think so anymore. I know Marik. He would never do this unless he cared for you. Even _pretending_ to show affection was a weakness for him. He would never have done it if he truly didn't love you."

"Despite what either of us said," Bakura sighed again, "we only really wanted to warn you. You were so headstrong about your love for Marik that quite frankly, it just worried us. You know what losing a close one does to you, hikari." He lightly tapped Ryou's head. "I had thought that it would simply be better if you hadn't known Marik at all. Regardless of whether or not he loves you, the fact is that I was worried that something like this would happen. Marik _still_ loves you. He still does. But that's just how a yami thinks."

Malik sighed again, looking at Ryou's ring forlornly.

"He must really like you," Malik whispered longingly. "Bakura and I are so much in love, and yet…" Sighing, Malik released Ryou's hand, letting it drop to the floor. Bakura rolled his eyes.

"Not this again!" he whined. Malik shot his lover a look.

"You never show your affections like that to me!" he complained. "You've never given me anything like Marik gives things to Ryou! Why don't you?"

Bakura looked very uncomfortable. "I do!" he said indignantly. "I got you that necklace!"

"Yeah, but that's _it!_" Malik said exasperatedly. Bakura bristled.

"Isn't that _enough_?" the thief asked incredulously. "You know I don't do things like Marik does. He's a material-goods sort of person! Don't be so jealous, Malik!"

"I'm not jealous!" Malik retorted back childishly. "I just---"

"Marik…" a soft voice suddenly whispered, and both Bakura and Malik fell silent. "Marik…does do…a lot of things for me…" Blinking softly, Ryou looked up from his finger. In their row, neither Bakura nor Malik had noticed that Ryou had been staring at his ring for so long.

"Do?" Bakura repeated dumbly. Malik chucked a random coin at Bakura's head. The thief ducked it easily.

Slowly, Ryou nodded, his eyes distant.

"Yes…" Slowly, he reached up with his hand, and gripped the locket that still hung from his neck. Blinking rapidly, Malik bent forwards to look at it, having never seen a close look of it before. As Ryou unraveled his fingers, Malik's mouth in awe, admiring the beauty of the scarab's golden surface.

"That…that's beautiful…" Malik whispered. "He…he gave that to you?"

Slowly, Ryou nodded again. Timidly, almost unsurely, his pale fingers began to open the golden locket. With a small, faint _click_, he pried the locket open, revealing the two pictures that had been fitted within.

Another breath of awe escaped Malik's lips. Gently, he reached forwards, tentatively reaching for the locket. With a soft, distant look in his eyes, Ryou gently laid the scarab pedant into Malik's hands, and the other's eyes widened in marvel.

Muttering and grumbling, Bakura turned away, his cheeks a faint shade of red.

"Girly hikaris."

* * *

Marik was literally, _very_ furious. Not even one servant had seen Ryou at all. In fact, many of them scurried away when they first saw Marik coming…if it was possible that looks could kill, Marik would have committed a mass homicide. 

Where WAS he? He had told Ryou…he had TOLD Ryou to stay where he was…

He had searched all of the rooms. Nothing.

He had searched the corridors to the dungeons. Nothing.

He had even searched the dungeons themselves. Nothing at all.

Fuming, he let loose a rage-filled yell, slamming his fist into the nearby wall. CURSE it all! WHERE WAS RYOU!

"Looking for something, Marik?" a soft voice asked. Marik whipped around, his amethyst eyes flashing.

"What do you want?" he snapped loudly. "Leave me be!"

The soft voice shook her head, and stepped into the light. Blue eyes were clouded with sisterly worry, despite her authoritative linens and golden headdress.

"Marik, is that such a way to speak to your sister?" Isis asked quietly. Marik bared his teeth, snarling.

"You are anything BUT!" he yelled, sending her his most outraged look. Sighing softly, Isis shook her head, her eyes closed.

"Marik, you don't scare me. Please, stop this nonsense before you hurt yourself."

"Quit talking to me like as if I'm Malik!" Marik roared angrily. He had no time to fuss himself with Isis now. If he had been in a good mood, he would've threatened her with death again, but he was simply far too pissed and frustrated at the moment. "Curse you, Isis!"

"Yes yes, I know," Isis said tiredly. "Marik, stop it, hitting the wall isn't going to make anything better. If anything, you are just going to crack your knuckles. Are you looking for Ryou?"

Snarling, Marik whipped around. He slammed his fist into the wall again. A few dust mites sprinkled from the trembling ceiling above. Again, Isis shook her head, and she reached forward gently with one hand.

"Really, Marik, you must do something about your temper," Isis sighed, laying her hand on Marik's arm in a motherly fashion. "If you are looking for Ryou, why not find Bakura? Ra knows that's the only place Ryou will go, if he cannot find Malik." Isis almost rolled her eyes. "I'm sure Malik is there too, come to think of it. Silly little brother."

"CURSE YOU!" Marik bellowed, whipping his arm from Isis's gentle grasp. "I do NOT need you to tell me where I can find Ryou! Of course I know he's with Bakura, the sniveling little coward! What does this have to do with YOU, anyways?"

Isis sighed again, looking very exhausted. "Never you mind. I'm just very concerned for Ryou, that is all. If he is hurt, I'm sure he'll need you. The soldiers at the palace are looking for him. Of course, the Pharaoh knows nothing at the moment…he is still trying to find his name and look for Bakura at the same time."

"Curse Yami," Marik spat. Isis tsked lightly.

"_Pharaoh,_ Marik. Please, his name is hardly Yami."

"Be quiet!" Marik snapped harshly. "I don't give a damn what Yami's real name is! Personally, I don't care about him at all! I want to find RYOU!"

"Then don't make such a scene!" Isis hissed sternly. Her blue eyes flashed. "Really, Marik, think rationally. If you scare the entire underground worrying about Ryou, word will get up to the Palace! If the Pharaoh hears, he'll probably go find Ryou himself first! To the Pharaoh's knowledge, Ryou wasn't even allowed to come here to Egypt! So if you don't want to draw attention to Ryou, then be a man and stop making a fuss!"

"I am NOT YOUR LITTLE BROTHER!" Marik bellowed. Isis bristled impatiently.

"Sometimes I wish you weren't," she muttered. Marik snarled.

"Good. That makes us even."

Isis took another deep breath, and rubbed her forehead tiredly. "Look, Marik. I have forgiven you for what you've done. If anything, I would say most of this is entirely Fate's fault, concerning our father's death and your birth. Or maybe it's Shaadi's, but I don't think he'd be too pleased if I blame father's death and you on him. He'd probably slide through the wall while I'm bathing, the silly priest."

She shook her head. "If you ever need me for anything, you can come and ask me. I'm just here to warn you to be careful about Ryou's whereabouts. You know what the Pharaoh's foot soldiers are like. Don't put him through that sort of danger. Understand?"

Without even waiting for an answer, Isis promptly turned around, her linens swishing behind her. "I suggest you go up and find Ryou," she called over her shoulder. "I need to thank him for helping Malik pass algebra. Take good care of him, Marik. I shall be upstairs if you need me."

And with that, the priestess disappeared.

Grumbling, Marik turned in the other direction, heading for one of the entrances to the outside world.

"I can see why Shaadi would want to make your life a living hell," Marik muttered. Sighing, he walked up the stairway to the outside world, and flung the shutters open. He cursed again.

It was raining.

Cursing again, he stepped into the rain. Even though he wouldn't admit it out loud, he was worried about Ryou. Very worried.

* * *

"I think I should go back," Ryou whispered suddenly. 

Bakura and Malik looked up. Both of them had been inspecting Ryou's locket intently for a while. Often things were exchanged between them, like, "Why don't you do this for me too?" and "What? Twenty-four carat gold? You deserve more that that!" and "Oh, shut up."

"Go back?" Malik repeated, yanking the golden chain from Bakura's hands. "You mean it?"

Slowly, Ryou nodded.

Despite what he had originally thought, Ryou knew that deep down inside, he still loved Marik. Despite the pain and the agony he had been put through, Ryou knew that he was still in love with Marik. And despite what Marik might do in the future, Ryou knew that he would rather be hurt with Marik, than not be with Marik at all.

Bakura and Malik had been right. Marik had never shown any sort of affection, fake or otherwise, unless it was true. Perhaps the Shadows _had_ had an effect on him. Ra only knew that that's what happened with Bakura.

And if it was simply the Shadows, Ryou then had overreacted. He knew Marik's temper, and he felt terrible for it now. He should've been more patient, more understanding. After all, Marik had come back with gifts of apology, and what had Ryou done? Threw them away and screamed at him. No wonder Marik seemed to hate him. He was a terrible lover.

Guiltily, Ryou sat back, his insides writing. He was a hypocrite himself, come to think of it. Ever since Marik came back, Ryou had never asked the other if he had been alright. He had never asked if the Shadows were terrible, or if Marik was glad to be back away from the Realm of Darkness. He had never asked if Marik needed any comfort, or any sort of assurance that Ryou would forever be by his side.

In retrospect, Ryou had neglected their relationship as much as he had though Marik had. He shouldn't have put in so much emphasis on his relationship with Bakura. After all, Marik had only just come back…of course love came first before brotherhood. How could Ryou have missed that?

_No wonder he thought I betrayed him_, Ryou thought miserably. His insides gave another nauseating jump. _I almost did. I didn't ask him if he was okay, or if he wanted me to be with him. All I thought was myself. I shouldn't have spent so much time with Bakura. I should've spent more time with Marik…talking, reading, anything. How could I have been such a dunce?_

Another jump of his writhing insides made Ryou grimace.

_I almost betrayed him again,_ he thought to himself. _I came to Bakura. I almost made love to Bakura. If Marik heard that, how would he react? Not just Bakura…anyone. He'd truly hate me. _

Whimpering softly, Ryou tucked his face into his knees. Gently, he felt someone claps his necklace back onto his neck, and looked up. Malik looked down fondly at him.

"It's shiny," the Egyptian grinned. A sad look crossed Malik's lavender eyes. "If you want to, I can come with you. Marik shouldn't have done this to you. Especially putting you through what I went through. No one deserves that."

"Can I beat him into a bloody pulp?" Bakura piped up. Malik laughed, and even Ryou gave a weak smile.

"N-No," Ryou replied, and Bakura's face fell into a childish pout. "Sorry, Bakura. I don't want anymore fighting. All I want is to talk with Marik again."

"Do you want us to at least come with you?" Malik asked gently. "If he tries to hurt you again, we can make him listen to reason, can't we, Bakura?"

"Yes we can," Bakura grinned enthusiastically. He began ticking off his fingers. "Alright, so I'm bringing…dagger, sword, noose, Diabound, knife, fork, chains, rock and scalpel. That sound good to you?"

"Bakura!" Ryou scolded, while Malik burst out into laughter. Bakura's eyes twinkled mischievously.

"I could also give a vasectomy on him if you want," Bakura offered, grinning widely. "That's what the scalpel's for---AH!"

Malik burst out into another fit of laughter when, for the first time in the entire night, something had actually connected with Bakura's head. For with an exasperated, annoyed, and slightly amused sigh, Ryou had chucked one of Bakura's heavy jars of ointment, and had collided straight into the other's forehead.

"Not fair!" Bakura's voice whined, sounding muffled as he was currently lying on his back with the jar of ointment dancing between his hands in effort to catch it. Ryou and Malik giggled softly.

"We'll come with you anyways," Malik grinned, ignoring the little crash that indicated the jar had broken. Bakura groaned comically behind the stash of linen. "And I promise, I'll stop Bakura from performing a vasectomy if he's going to do it. I doubt he even knows where to cut what."

"You cut the nut from its leaf, simple!" Bakura replied loudly, getting up. He yelped when another jar of ointment flew over his hair. "Ryou, good grief, I'm kidding! So you want to get screwed with something tiny, I get it----AH!"

Malik grinned as he watched Ryou chucked a rock at Bakura's head this time. Groaning, Bakura held a hand to his head, trying his best not to admit that there were stars dancing in front of his eyes.

"I think Ryou likes Marik's crotch the way it is," Malik grinned. "Come on, Ryou. We'll come with you. And I promise I'll stop Bakura from doing anything you don't like."

Nodding slowly, Ryou gingerly attempted to get to his feet. Snickering, Malik bent forwards and picked Ryou up and forced the younger one to saddle his back, giving Ryou a piggy-back ride. Squeaking, Ryou wound his arms around Malik's neck, burying his face into the other's shoulder. "Bakura! You coming?"

"Let me find my scalpel," Bakura called teasingly, grinning at Ryou's frown. "I kid, I kid. We can go now. Your back is healing nicely, hikari. If nothing else touches your ass for a while, I think the pain should be gone by the end of this week."

Ryou nodded. "Thanks Bakura," he whispered. He hugged onto Malik tightly. "Thanks, Malik."

Malik and Bakura grinned.

"No problem," Malik said, as Bakura sheepishly scratched behind his head, walking pass them to grab his cloak from the cave entrance. "Come on. If we find Isis, she can patch you up in no time." Hoisting Ryou higher up, Malik straightened, and was about to follow Bakura out the cave entrance, when suddenly, Bakura flashed them a dangerous look.

"Malik," he whispered urgently, and Malik could instantly see the sharpness of the other's eyes. Malik gave his lover a worried look.

"Bakura, what's wrong?" he whispered, and looked out the window. His eyes widened, and he heard Bakura curse under his breath.

"Soldiers," Malik whispered. Quick as a flash, Malik darted out the side of the cave entrance, sliding into the bushes that adorned the precipice. Growling, Bakura slid on his cloak, following them.

"Don't make a sound," Bakura whispered sternly, noticing Ryou's trembling. "Hikari, I'm warning you. One sound…"

"Bakura!" Malik scolded. "Hardly the time!"

Bakura's eyes narrowed. "It's the perfect time."

Whipping around, he shoved Malik and Ryou further into the bushes. A clear whistle echoed into the night, before the sound of galloping hooves echoed after the whistle. Malik grimaced, gritting his teeth as he heard soldiers beginning to clatter and clamor at Bakura's whistle.

Ryou whimpered. Why was nothing going right?

The sound of echoing hooves increased in volume, and after a carefully calculated moment, Bakura's voice echoed into the night.

"NOW!"

Bursting through the bushes, Malik hurled himself on his own horse, straddling it immediately. Startled, Ryou gave a pain-filled, fearful scream, which was instantly muffled by Bakura's hand. With careful and swift grace, Bakura launched himself on his own horse, and placed Ryou in front of him.

"Go! GO!" he yelled, and Malik needed no further warning. Slapping the horses with their heels, the two riders galloped into the night, their weakened companion whimpering all the while.

But seventy soldiers couldn't be wrong…

An arrow soared through the air, and Ryou screamed.

* * *

For the first time ever, the desert was drenched with water. Cursing, Marik knew it was daytime, but the sudden change of weather made the sky seem as dark as night. Beyond the wet mounds of sand, the Nile flushed with furious rapids, its bank flooding at the Sahara's newest change in weather. 

Ryou had been gone for hours now, and Marik still hadn't found him. In fact, when he had reached Bakura's place, the sand in front of the mountain was covered in dents, created by galloping hooves. His heart gave a small tug…it looked as though there had been a commotion of sorts.

Evening was approaching. For more than twelve hours, Marik couldn't find Ryou, no matter what he did. He was about to head home when saw another horse come into the horizon. Squinting, he held his ground, wondering fiercely if it was Bakura or not. If it were, he would demand for Ryou and bring him home. If not, well…murder was a good option too…

It was Bakura.

But his companion was certainly not Ryou.

Narrowing his eyes, Marik kicked his spur and spurted forwards, hurrying to meet them. A sense of dread welled in the cold pit of his stone heart, and as he neared, he couldn't help but feel slightly anxious as to Ryou's whereabouts. The look of Ryou's face and the notes of Ryou's hateful words had taken their toll on Marik, and quite frankly, after so long, his concern was quickly increasing.

But no. Bakura's companion was merely Malik, but both riders looked exhausted. They were both sharing one horse, which was limping terribly, and from Bakura's back protruded two arrows. The thief was leaning on Malik entirely for support, who was crying and bleeding from his forehead.

Marik rode forwards, stopping before them. His eyes narrowed at Bakura's and Malik's states. The thief king looked close to death, resting entirely upon Malik. The other Egyptian counterpart was crying hard under his breath, rain streaking his tear-stained face. Marik narrowed his eyes.

"What's going on?" he demanded. "Where's Ryou?"

At his voice, Malik slowly looked up. Surprised, Marik's spur took a step back. The other's eyes were weak and bitter, sad and mourning. Something was terribly wrong.

"M-Marik…" Malik whimpered. "Ryou…Ryou…"

"What?" Marik demanded, snapping at Ryou's name. He rushed forwards. "Where is Ryou? Tell me! Tell me now!"

Bakura gave a groan, his head lolling on Malik's back. "Is the idiot still theerrr…..?'

Marik snarled. "Tell me where Ryou is. NOW."

Malik whimpered. Suddenly, the Egyptian Light broke down into tears, sagging against his horse. Harshly taken aback, Marik snarled at his Light.

"We tried to stop them!" Malik wailed, wiping blood from his eyes. "We tried, we really did, but they…but they…!"

"But they what?" Marik asked. He reached forward, attempting to grasp his Light. "They what! Tell me, Malik! What did they do to Ryou? What did they do to him?"

Sobbing, Malik shook his head. With a trembling hand, he reached out to Marik and dropped something into the other's awaiting hand.

Marik's eyes widened, and for the possibly the infinite time that day, his heart shattered.

In his hand, its golden chain broken by force, laid Ryou's locket.

* * *

Corny, long, and stupid, I know. I know many of you didn't like the last chapter, and I'm sorry. We're almost at the half-way midpoint though! Yeah, this story is going to have tons of angst and death... so be forwarned. I'm so sorry that this chapter is so crappy, but I had the entire plot all figured out! So I can't back off now to write a really happy happy ending too early! 

Please don't hate me for this chapter. I'm really trying hard, I am. Please please please please please don't hate me! I know Marik did a one-eighty just now, but if I had more time, it would've been a ninety, then another ninety, then another ninety, and then another ninety. And yes, Isis serves a purpose in this fic. Don't hate me for adding in her! Because sooner or later, three new characters that are rarely seen in YGO are presented! I'll give you a hint: they're all dead.

PLEASE DON'T HATE ME! I try to be a good authoress, I try I try, I'm so sorry, please don't hate me….

(weakly) read and review? Pretty please?

Remember, the more reviews I get, the faster and nicer I'll update! I love you all, please don't hate me! (cries)


	19. One Step Home

I am so tired. Please...don't hate me...I'm really putting in lots of effort into this...but...(sighs soflty) I dont' know...I know it's going downhill...

* * *

Chapter Nineteen: First Step Home

Ryou whimpered as the door slammed shut. Squeezing his eyes shut tightly, he curled himself into a small ball, the shackles on his wrists and ankles clanking cruelly. Darkness surrounded him, except for the pale, gray moonlight that seeped through his barred window.

Oh, how he hated this place!

Why? Why was everything going so wrong?

It had been just fine. Just fine! He had wanted to go back! He had wanted to see Marik again! But no…Fate hated him, as always…those soldiers…what had they done to Bakura? What had they done to Malik? Were they also captured? Were they also stuck near his dingy cell, chained and imprisoned? Most importantly, were they alright?

He couldn't remember much of what happened. He had already been so weak when Malik piggybacked him out the cave. His adrenaline had totally diminished, leaving him nothing but a weak, hollow, empty shell. Had he been just a little braver, maybe he wouldn't be here right now.

Those soldiers…shadows of men with axes and swords….Ryou shivered, before tears began to leak down his face. An arrow had soared through the air, and almost impaled Bakura. Before Ryou could do anything, Bakura's horse had bucked…. and he went flying…he heard Malik scream…

Whimpering miserably, Ryou clutched his head, trying his best to control his shaking. Screams…pain…blood...splattering in front of his eyes, tearing across his skin, echoing through his ears…Bakura….Bakura and Malik…fighting them off…someone…someone grabbing his hair…yanking him away…Bakura and Malik shouting…Diabound…

Arrows…arrows shooting…too many of them…hurt Bakura…Bakura was wounded…Malik fought them off…Bakura was already weakened…Diabound swept to the ground, killing many soldiers in his path…but it wasn't enough…not when Bakura was weak and distracted, while protecting two Lights at once…

Letting out a tortuous wail, Ryou slumped forwards, shaking his head furiously. It was all a haze! Where was he? What happened? All he could remember was getting hit on the head…Bakura yelling…Bakura down…Malik yelling…too many…too many soldiers…too many shadows…

_"Go! Go! Please, nii-sama, go!"_

_"Ryou! Dammit, Malik, get Ryou!"_

_"Bakura, you're wounded! Run!"_

_"No….no…" A pleaded wail. A weak, pleaded wail. "Bakura…Bakura-nii…yami-sama…go!"_

_"RYOU! RYOU! DAMMIT, RYOU!"_

_Horses…horses…clopping away…speeding away…the horse whimpering with pain…Bakura yelling in rage and fury as an arrow embedded itself in his back…_

_"RYOU! RYOU! MALIK, DAMMIT!"_

_A sword hilt…crashing down…crashing down upon him… Diabound…writhing in pain…a girl…a girl…brown hair, green dress…demon wings, angel wings…Amane…more pain…weakness…weak…feeling ever so weak…_

_"RYOU! DAMMIT, DON'T DO IT!"_

_"Have…have to…" Bakura-nii….Bakura-sama…Malik-kun…must save them.. he had to save them…the sword hilt…impaling on his skull… a dull, yet sharp pain coursing through his cranium…Bakura…_

_"RYOU!"_

_…Marik…_

Marik…Marik…Marik…

"MARIK!"

Screaming, Ryou jumped awake, the chains behind him clacking loudly. Panting, Ryou slumped against the cold, mossy bricks of his dingy cell, putting a hand over his chest. Marik…Marik…

So that's what happened…

Whimpering, Ryou curled into his defensive ball again. Now he remembered. Bakura and Malik…they had gone... they had escaped…he had been captured…captured…and put in this dingy cell, likely to rot for life…

Tears burst down Ryou's cheeks. Marik…just when he wanted to go back to Marik! Did Marik know? Did Marik know that Ryou had been captured? Did anyone tell him? Would Marik care?

_I still love him,_ Ryou sobbed to himself. Of course he still loved Marik. For no other did he wish for as badly as he wished for Marik now. Every time…every time, whenever he was in trouble, he needed Marik. That time on the blimp…when he was so sick…he needed Marik…needed Marik so badly… even though Marik had been so cruel to him, Ryou still wanted the other to be with him. He'd rather have mean Marik than no Marik at all.

_"Shh…"_ a soft voice whispered next to him. Ryou sobbed. No…he was just hallucinating again…like always…like always when his heart needed Marik, despite what his mind wanted. And his heart wanted Marik next to him. With him. Holding him.

_"Shh…Ryou…stop crying…"_

Oh, those words! Those deep, rich words that Ryou hadn't heard for months…the same words that Marik spoke when they were together…when they were on the blimp…!

_"Ryou…don't cry…you know how much I hate it to see you cry…"_

Bursting into tears, Ryou wailed into his knees, his shoulder shaking. Marik! Oh, how badly he wanted Marik! The Marik he fell in love with! The Marik that had saved him, cared for him, understood him…! The same Marik that had sat by his side when he was sick, that had danced with him on the blimp, that had cursed Bakura's name whenever Ryou mentioned him…oh, how badly he wanted Marik now!

"M-Marik…" Ryou whimpered, his heart swelling, his mind sobbing and his skin trembling. "M-Marik…p-please…come get me…p-please…"

The fear continued to grow within him, swelling profusely within his chest. His lungs constricted and his heart rammed hard into his ribcage. His sobs became hitched, and his shaking increased. His stomach churned.

"M-Marik…" Ryou whimpered again, curling more so into his ball. "Oh Marik…p-please…please come get me…I…I'll do what you want…I'll b-become a slave for you…p-please come get me…"

A wrenched sob escaped his lips. Cold air brushed past his skin, and raindrops bounced into his cell. Goosebumps shivered their way to his pale skin, which was drenched from his cloak. At least he was still dressed. At least his bandages were still in place. At least he wasn't being tortured…yet.

At this, Ryou let out another wail, rocking himself to and fro in desperate attempt to calm himself down. But it was a futile replacement for Marik's arms.

"I love you…" Ryou whispered to the air. "I still love you…Marik…please…please come get me…I still love you…I'm sorry…I'm sorry…I'm sorry…please come get me…please come get me…" A frantic hand came up to Ryou's throat, scrambling desperately for his locket. When his cold, clammy fingers found nothing but cold, clammy skin, he let out another wail and burst into more tears.

"I'M SORRY!" he cried, his voice rebounding against the cold, empty walls. "I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY! MARIK, I LOVE YOU! MARIK, PLEASE, I LOVE YOU! I STILL LOVE YOU! I ALWAYS WILL! I'M SO SORRY!" Breaking down, Ryou collapsed into his little heap again, shaking uncontrollably.

"I'm sorry…I'm sorry…I'm sorry…" Those two words were repeated over and over again in his head. Yes, he was sorry. Yes, he was sorry that he had yelled at Marik, screamed at Marik, and rejected Marik's apology. Was he going to die now? Was he never going to see his Mariku again? Was the last time he saw Mariku going to be a memory of bitter war of hate?

"N-No…" Ryou choked. "Please…please…Mariku…you said…you said… you said you'd never leave me… you said you'd always help me…you said you'd always come get me…you said…you said…"

Ryou swallowed, his breathing hitching again.

"…you said you loved me…"

Ryou's shoulders shook violently again. Mariku….Mariku had said that he loved him…Mariku would come back…Mariku …Mariku…

_"FINE! GO! RUN TO YOUR PATHETIC YAMI-SAMA! NEVER COME BACK AGAIN! NEVER ASK FOR ME AGAIN! AND IF YOU EVER GET YOURSELF INTO TROUBLE, THEN IT'S YOUR OWN DAMN FAULT! AND I'LL NEVER COME FOR YOU AGAIN! NEVER! YOU'RE ON YOUR OWN! FOREVER!"_

A violent shudder struck through Ryou's heart, and his stomach churned again. Marik…did Mariku really mean that? Did Mariku really mean that he was never going to come for Ryou ever again?

Sobbing weakly, Ryou buried his face into his knees again. "

"I didn't mean it…" he whispered. "I really didn't…oh please…please…. Mariku…I still love you…I don't want Bakura or anyone else to come save me…I want you…. I need you…please Mariku…please…"

Shivering again, Ryou pulled his robe closer. His eyes felt sore and raw.

"Please Mariku…please…" another sob escaped, followed by a hiccup. "Please…please…Mariku…I love you…I love you…please come back for me…please…I didn't mean it…I didn't mean it…I was … I was just…" Another sob flew from Ryou's lips, and for a moment, he merely continued weeping, crying miserably into his knees. "…I was just…afraid…afraid…I'm still afraid…I'm still afraid…but it's just me…please don't be mad….please don't hate me…don't hate me…please come get me…Mariku…"

As the rain continued to pour, and the moon slowly began to rise, Ryou continued to weep helplessly. Mariku…oh, how badly he needed his Mariku right now! No other arms would feel the same! Not Malik's, not Bakura's, and not anyone else's. He wanted Marik.

"Please…still love me…Mariku…"

Suddenly, the door creaked open. Hiccupping, Ryou turned to face the newcomer, but his heart sank when he realized it was merely a guard. In fact, his heart just froze, and ice ran through his chest.

"Come here," the guard said gruffly, shadows hiding his face. "The captain wants you. Interrogation time, wimp."

Interrogation? Ryou trembled and shut his eyes as the guard came in, holding out a big key. Oh no….

Mariku…Mariku would come….Mariku always came…Mariku would come….Mariku always came…

Didn't he?

The shackles fell to the floor.

* * *

"There," Isis's soft voice said quietly. "Done."

Blinking the tears from his eyes, Malik sat up from the altar. His sister had just finished healing both him and Bakura, though the thief still had to be bandaged from his deep wounds, particularly the arrows and his stab wound.

"I should've saved him," Malik said dully. The floor floated beneath him, swirling about around him. His blood felt weak, oh so weak…too much had happened at once…too much…

"Malik!"

Suddenly, a pair of arms encircled around his torso, and cushioned him from the floor. Crying softly, Malik blinked the tears from his eyes, and looked up dazedly to see Bakura holding him protectively.

"Malik? Malik, get a hold of yourself," Bakura whispered, his brown eyes worried. "Malik…"

Dazed, Malik nodded, his eyes distant as he tried to regain his balance with Bakura's help. The thief noticed this glance and quickly raised Malik's chin, forcing his young lover to look at him in the eyes.

"Malik…don't worry," Bakura whispered reassuringly. "Marik's going to find Ryou. I know he is. He may be an idiot, but he'll find Ryou. And he'll find Ryou and bring him back." The thief wound his arms closer around Malik, and held the other close. "I promise."

Sniffling, Malik slowly wound his arms around Bakura's neck, brushing the other's white hair from his shoulders.

"But what if he doesn't?" Malik whispered fearfully. "What if Marik's still mad? What if Marik finds Ryou and just leaves him here? What if…"

"Marik loves Ryou," Bakura cut in, his voice soft and assuring to Malik's ears. "Don't worry. We know he does. And I think he's finally come to his senses. The Shadows can't continue controlling him if he's still caring this much for Ryou. He's your Darkness, can't you feel him?"

"Y-Yes…." Malik whispered reluctantly. Yes, he knew Marik was going to find Ryou. For once since Battle City, Malik had indeed noticed what Ryou had described in Marik's eyes…a faint trace of warm lavender and mauve, clouded gray with worry and concern. Despite the amethyst edge that had surrounded them, yes, Malik had seen them. And yes, despite his worried heart, he knew Marik was going to find Ryou, and bring him back.

Shaking her head, Isis left the room, allowing her younger brother and her Pharaoh's enemy alone together. As she gazed back sadly, her heart gave a sigh, her fingers lightly brushing the necklace that surrounded her neck. The Sennen Tauk shimmered in the air.

Her heart sank. What was this world coming to?

* * *

Ryou…Ryou…Ryou…

That name pounded in Marik's ears unceasingly, throbbing against his temples and pounding against his ears.

Ryou…Ryou…Ryou…

Oh gods, where was he? Squinting through the rain, Marik kicked his heels against his black spur, urging his horse to increase his break-neck speed. The soldiers…they had already gotten Ryou…they had already gotten his lover…

A sick, cold feeling clenched Marik's insides, despite his Shadow-induced blood. Ryou….Ryou gone…Ryou without him…Ryou crying…needing him…but would Ryou even want to see him? After all Marik had done, would Ryou hate him still? Would Ryou even come home with Marik?

_Damn it,_ Marik cursed. _Oh, gods, Ryou…be alright, please be alright…_

Screw his pride. Ryou was going to die if Marik didn't hurry up. Gripping the reins tightly, Marik kicked his spur again, and hurried on into the rain.

The night was approaching.

* * *

A small, choked cry flew from Ryou's lips, as he was slammed into the wall. Coughing, he slid onto his knees, feeling his stomach already bruising from the force of the blow.

"Pitiful," the captain muttered, watching Ryou cough weakly to the ground. "Pitiful. So what are you? A thief? An apprentice? A sorcerer? What are you, you freak? What are you!"

Sobbing, Ryou whispered feebly his name, but all that did was make things worse. A foot embedded itself into Ryou's stomach again, forcing blood to fly from his lips.

"You're not making this any easier for yourself," the captain said coolly, as three other guards continued to beat Ryou mercilessly. "A freak such as yourself shouldn't have a name. Are you a slave? An enemy from a foreign land? An omen? What are you!"

Again, Ryou shook his head, tears streaming down his cheeks. Someone slapped him hard across his face.

They had been at it for hours now, it seemed to Ryou. He had been brought into another chamber, and promptly bound around his wrists. His ankles were also loosely bonded with coarse rope, preventing him from escaping, but allowing the guards the ability to drag him anywhere they wished.

Interrogation was horrible. Three against one, while the captain oversaw everything. Sticks, fists, heels implanted themselves everywhere around his body…it was obvious his previous wounds had not gone unnoticed, for the guards particularly loved to strike the whip marks that were still healing on Ryou's back.

Oh, the pain! The bruising pain! Ryou wasn't sure how much more he could take. Screaming for mercy was futile.

Suddenly, his cloak was ripped from his body, and screaming, he curled into a ball. A couple other hands ripped away his bandages, and soon enough, he had been stripped bare, right in front of four, total, complete strangers.

"Get him up," the captain snapped. The guards nodded, and soon forced Ryou onto his knees. One yanked hard on his hair, forcing him to look up at the captain. Sobbing, Ryou gave a feeble moan….there was not much more he could take…not anymore…

The captain narrowed his eyes, analyzing the boy carefully. Such pale skin…such pale hair. No one in Egypt had such extraordinary features. The boy must've been a relative of the Thief King. Who else in Egypt would have such white hair?

The captain had been just appointed his role. Young, cocky, and biggest and buffest of the entire army, he was very egotistical, and very cocky. His predecessor had been rather rude and very humiliating to prisoners, and this captain was no different.

However, this captain was much slyer than the old one, and one look at the pathetic boy before him told him that there was most doubly something bigger than just a random stranger. Many of the guards believed this "Ryou" was a mere omen, but his resemblance to the Thief King was just much too great.

This assured, the captain walked forwards, watching as the victim began to sob uncontrollably. Kneeling down, the captain smirked, and gripped a painful amount of the boy's bangs.

"So," the captain hissed. "Who are you, little omen? By any chance, would you know something about the Thief King? The Pharaoh is trying his best to find the Thief and execute him…perhaps if you know something about the King of Thieves, maybe we might let you go. Deal?"

The captain knew perfectly well that this boy knew the King of Thieves. After all, the King of Thieves was there himself, protecting his young boy. As a matter of fact, some of his soldiers had even said that the _tomb keeper _was there. It was possible that there was some treason going on in the Pharaoh's side.

The captain gripped the boy's silver hair harder, yanking it back to the point where the boy had difficulty to breathe, since his windpipe was forced too far back. More tears trickled down the prisoner's face, and doe brown eyes stared up at him, terrified.

"You know…" the captain hissed, gently scraping his thumb across Ryou's neck, "…the Thief King killed many of my soldiers. If you don't say anything, you can be held and put on trial for treason. And I assure you…that's not a pretty sight."

One guard smirked, and slowly, brought out a coiled whip. The guard then slowly drifted it over Ryou's eyes, forcing him to see the bloodstain and coarse knots that were in it. Whimpering, Ryou's eyes filled with more terrified tears. The captain smirked.

"You see…this is what happens when a prisoner disobeys the law," the captain said smoothly. "They get put down like this…" The guard yanking back Ryou's hair suddenly pushed Ryou forwards, crushing his face into the ground. Instinctively, Ryou screamed. His backside was completely vulnerable!

"No! No! Please! Please don't!" Ryou sobbed frantically. "No! Please! I know nothing! I know nothing! Please! Please!"

"…and then they get tied like this…" Smirking, the captain watched as the third guard came forwards, tying Ryou's wrist to an iron ring into the ground. Sobbing, Ryou started to thrash around in an effort to free himself.

"No! NO! Please! Please! I don't know anything! Please don't hurt me!"

"…and then…" the captain smiled, and snapped his fingers. The long whip was instantly brought down, swiftly across Ryou's backside.

A scream tore out from Ryou's throat, feeling the scorching pain fire across his skin. The pain! The pain! It was much worse than whatever he had ever been through! Sobbing, Ryou thrashed again, screaming futilely for mercy.

The captain smirked, watching as the prisoner began to twist and writhe helplessly. Suddenly, something caught his eye.

"Don't do it!" he snapped harshly at the guard with the whip. Eyes narrowing, the captain strode forwards, and yanked Ryou's hair away from his shoulders. The captain's eyes widened.

_Marik_

There it was. A tomb keeper's name, scrawled into the freak's skin. What did this mean!  
Suddenly, Ryou froze. Oh no…oh no…they hadn't….they hadn't…

"So…" the captain said loudly. He began to walk around slowly, gradually tapping his hand against the hilt of his sword. So…the child was a friend of the Thief King's…and was a property of the tomb keeper. The tomb keeper was seen outside with the Thief King…the captain smirked. He had found a prisoner guilty of treason.

"Well well," the captain smirked, watching Ryou through his cold eyes. "Look at what I've found. A slave of the greatly respected tomb keeper Marik. Tell me, freak, is your master looking for you?"

Ryou's eyes widened.

_No no, no no please…_he prayed desperately. _Please…not Marik…not Marik…I'll suffer anything…please not Marik…_

A sudden explosion of pain brought him back to life, and Ryou screamed.

"No! No! NO! He's not looking for me! He's not looking for me!" Sobbing, Ryou cowered before them, curling his naked self into a ball. He could feel his old wounds splitting up again with the new ones, among all the tender bruises and soft, swelling flesh. "NO! No! Please…please…" Not Marik…not Marik…please not Marik…

"So you know the Keeper?" the captain smirked. Ah, the tricks one could play on a naïve little fool. He watched with satisfaction as Ryou's eyes widened at his mistake.

"No….no…no…" Ryou whimpered. "No…no…no…" He squeezed his eyes shut, hating himself for saying so. Hating himself for what he was going to say next. "…I…he…I don't know him."

Another blow across his back. Screaming, Ryou arched his spine, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks.

"I don't! I don't! I don't know!" he sobbed helplessly. "Please! Please! I don't know! I don't know the Keeper! I don't know him! Please! Stop!"

The captain smirked, watching as the guard raised the whip again. From the corner of his eye, the second guard had gone to get a thick, iron bar that was waiting in the smoking fireplace in the far corner. The third guard, however, had already disappeared into another corner, and was dragging something that resembled two dreadful-looking wooden cylinders. The captain's smirk widened. Tomb keepers with treason and thieves were not treated very kindly…

"Then why is his name written on your back?" the captain whispered cruelly. Sobbing, Ryou shook his head, covering his ears as best as he could. "Do you dare _lie_, you freak, you omen? You devil spawn? Do you dare lie to the servants of Ra himself?"

He yanked hard on Ryou's hair again, tearing a ragged cry from Ryou's lips. Grinning, he gestured for the other guards, and with sickening smirks on their faces, each of them crowded around Ryou. Two of them immediately grabbed his legs, forcing them wide apart. At this, Ryou gave another terrified cry, desperately struggling against his bonds. His ankles were then bounded to the floor with manacles, and his claves were encased with the wooden cylinders.

The captain smirked.

"Do you know what this is, freak?" he whispered, dragging Ryou's hair up. Ryou whimpered and shook his head, sobbing uncontrollably. Snickering cruelly, the captain grabbed the back of Ryou's tender throat, and forced him to look behind him.

It was then when Ryou finally noticed in detail at what was surrounding his legs. Not only were his calves captured in these dreadful wooden casements, but also a wooden handle was protruding through each of them, waiting to be turned. Ryou turned pale.

"N-No…no, please…" he whispered hoarsely, staring in terrified horror at the handles protruding from the wooden encasements. "No..no please..I know nothing…p-please!"

The captain smirked, and threw Ryou's 'head into the ground, forcing another cry of pain from the prisoner's throat. Drawing out his sword, the captain placed his foot on top of Ryou's head, forcing him into the ground much further than possible. The sword was resting on Ryou's back.

"You know what that is, freak?" the captain grinned, watching as Ryou trembled and sobbed helplessly into the cold ground. "You know what that thing is, freak? Answer me!" He jabbed Ryou harshly with his sword, and Ryou gave a pained cry, thrashing in pain.

"No! No! I don't know! I don't! Please, please, please don't…!"

The captain grinned widely, and kicked Ryou squarely in the head. The white-haired prisoner cried in pain and groaned, sniffling as stars blurred his vision. Blood began to sweep through the dirty pale strands.

"You don't know?" the captain smiled. "Alright then. We'll show you."  
Instantly, he snapped his fingers. Two guards dropped their weapons and immediately bent forwards, both hands grasping the handles. Sobbing heartbrokenly, Ryou desperately squirmed about, trying his best to escape them.

"NO! No please!" he cried. "Please! Please! Anything but that! Anything but that!"

The captain ignored him, and snapped his fingers again. Immediately, both guards wrenched the handles and twisted them, bringing the two encasements of wood together, crushing both Ryou's legs.

A scream tore through his throat and he writhed in pain…pain and more pain…by the gods…it felt as though his entire leg was being crushed! The smothering pressure that tightened and tightened with every pitch of his scream growing higher…too much…too much!

"Every time you fail to answer a question," the captain drawled slowly, "we shall give you…say…a bit of …encouragement. Let me warn you though, if you can't answer our questions, by the time we're done, you'll be crippled for life." The captain smirked, and grabbed Ryou's hair again, jerking Ryou off the floor painfully hard. "And do you want that, freak?" he whispered. "Do you want that, freak?"

Ryou shook his head frantically, scrambling against his binds in desperate attempt to relieve himself from the squeezing pressure his legs were forced to endure. He gave another pain-filled scream when the guards twisted the handles further, writhing madly against his bonds.

"No! No! Please! I don't want this!" Ryou sobbed. "PLEASE! I'll do anything! I'll do anything!"

"Then tell us who's betraying the pharaoh!" the captain bellowed. "Bakura has escaped from our grasp one too many times! Who's been helping him escape? Is it that annoying tomb keeper, Malik Ishtal? Or is it Marik? Who is it!"

"N-No…no one!" Ryou cried, sobbing painfully and writhing helplessly. "No one! No one's helping Bakura-sama!"

"Yet you know him!" the captain roared. "You know him! You are related to him! Your hair, your skin…! And you also have royal blood scrawled on your back! Are you Marik's slave? Are you? ARE YOU?"

"YES!" Ryou screamed, blood flying from his lips. "YES! YES! I'M MARIK'S SLAVE! PLEASE! PLEASE STOP!"

"THEN WHY WERE YOU SEEN WITH THE THIEF KING!" the captain bellowed back. He threw his foot into Ryou's shoulder, causing the Light to jerk from the force, before collapsing back from his restraints. "HAVE YOU BEEN BETRAYING YOUR MASTER? A SLAVE LIKE YOU…YOU SHOULD BE TOUCHED BEYOND ANYTHING ELSE THAT MARIK HAS TAKEN YOU IN! A FREAK LIKE YOU…! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE? HAVE YOU BEEN PLOTTING WITH THE THIEF KING? ARE YOU THE ONE WHO HAS BEEN HELPING HIM INTO THE PALACE? HAVE YOU?"

"NO!" Ryou screamed. He struggled furiously against his bonds. A terrifying sound of the handles turning tore yet another agonized cry. He sobbed pitifully, struggling helplessly. Marik! Oh, Marik, why couldn't Marik come already?

"THEN HAVE YOU BETRAYED MARIK!" the captain roared. "WHY WERE YOU SEEN WITH THE THIEF KING IFYOU ARE MARIK'S LOYAL SLAVE? HAS MARIK BEEN PLOTTING AGAINST THE PHARAOH? DO YOU REALIZE THAT TREASON AGAINST THE KING IS PUNISHED ON PENALTY OF DEATH? SPEAK!"

Another agonized shriek tore from Ryou's bloody lips as his legs were crushed further. The third guard had even resumed with his long, coiled whip…

"NO! NO! NO! PLEASE!" Ryou sobbed. He sobbed and pleaded and begged and screamed, but to no avail. "NO! PLEASE! MARIK HASN'T DONE ANYTHING WRONG! PLEASE!"

"THEN IT WAS JUST YOU?" the captain roared. "JUST YOU?"

"YES!" Ryou screamed. "YES! JUST ME! I BETRAYED MARIKU! I BETRAYED HIM! PLEASE…! PLEASE LEAVE MARIKU ALONE!"

Snarling, the captain turned away. For a fleeting moment, his eyes narrowed, and he thought deeply. The prisoner was obviously hiding something else…but it was hard to figure out exactly what.

For a while, the captain had noticed something around the prisoner's ring finger. At first, it was difficult to see, what with it being caked with dirt and grime and blood. But there was no mistaking it…wrapped around the pale, slim finger of the prisoner, was a plain, golden ring.

Turning back around, the captain swiftly bent down, and grabbed the prisoner's ring finger. Immediately, Ryou's eyes shot open, his brown eyes filled with unshed tears and shimmering with fear. Before Ryou could do anything, the captain swiftly extracted the other's ring, and was inspecting it.

"No…NO!" Ryou screamed frantically, struggling against his bonds with as much energy as he could muster. "No…NO! Please! Please! Not my ring! Please! Please give it back!"

Ryou's heart was pounding in his ears. No…no…how…how could he have been so careless! He had protected that ring…protected his locket and his ring…for all the time he had had them! He had even been risking his life and soul to protect them! His locket had already been torn away from him…but surely they wouldn't take his ring! He wouldn't let them!

"NO! PLEASE! STOP!" Ryou screamed, struggling furiously with newfound strength. "No! No please! Give it back! Please!"

"Oh?" the captain smirked, turning it slowly in front of his eyes. "Why? Which precious lover gave this to you, you dirty slave? Or did you steal it? Or was it…" the captain bent down, and held the ring in front of Ryou's eyes. "…_Mariku_ that gave it you?"

Ryou's eyes widened in fear, his body trembling. "…I…I…" his voice faltered weakly. If he said he had stolen it, they would surely take it away from him. If he said he got it from Mariku, they would find Mariku and persecute him! But what else could Ryou say?

He could say nothing. He was entirely at mercy in front of strangers he had never met; who were tormenting him needlessly in their lust for what they believed was justice. For the first time, Ryou could understand why Bakura hated the pharaoh and his cronies so much. This was hardly justice!

Smirking, the guard pocketed the ring inside his linen sarong, before turning away. Suddenly coming back to life, Ryou began to struggle again, desperately begging in attempt to bring back his ring.

"NO! No please!" he screamed. "I'll do anything! I'll do anything please! Please! Please give me back my ring! PLEASE!"

Slowly, the captain stopped. With torturing gradualness, he slowly turned around, smirking evilly at the prisoner. Whimpering, Ryou tried to shrink away from his gaze, but with no success.

"If you want your precious ring back," the captain smirked. "Then talk. If not…" the captain shrugged, and opened the door. "…I'll have a present for my wife tonight." Turning back slightly, he snapped his fingers, and the three other guards straightened at his command. "Break him," he said coldly. "I don't care how you do it. Break him. I'll be here in the morning to interrogate him. But he'd better be broken by then, or Ra help me, someone else here will."

With that, the captain slammed the door, and the room was engulfed with darkness.

His energy swiftly escaping him, Ryou collapsed onto the floor, sobbing hard at his loss. No…no…the ring…his ring…the one thing that Marik gave that wasn't extravagant, that wasn't expensive…the one thing that Ryou knew connected him with Marik. His locket was taken, his ring was stolen…he had nothing left. Nothing to reassure him that indeed, Marik had once loved him, and had once cared for him.

Would Marik come back? Would Marik come and save him? Would Marik be hurt or upset or angry that Ryou had let a stranger take his most precious belongings?

Sobbing in self-pity, Ryou hadn't noticed that two guards had repositioned themselves at his calves, and one of them was looming behind him between his legs, slowly unwrapping his linen sarong.

* * *

Gritting his teeth, Marik hopped off his horse. He was already at the palace gates, but it seemed hopeless to get in. There were no guards to open the great doors, and there was surely no way as to climbing over the walls. They were nearly five times of Marik's height, and there were no trees nearby for him to travel up by.

Growling, Marik thrust his fist into the caked wall, roaring in frustration. His Ryou…his Ryou…SO DAMN CLOSE! And yet, here he was, the great Marik, the great Shadow Master, being stopped by twenty tons of packed sand?

Night had loomed already, and Marik let out a long tirade of curses beneath his breath. Ryou…oh gods…Ryou…

Seething, Marik whipped himself away from the wall, and slowly took out something from his pocket. Slowly unraveling his fingers, he stared down at the broken, golden locket in his hand.

This locket had been very precious to him, at some point in his life. He remembered watching Malik and Isis playing in their parent's lounge, when their father was away. He remembered how Isis spoke of this locket, how it belonged to their dead mother. How it had fallen from the well that was their window to the outside world, that their mother believed it was a gift from Ra.

Sighing softly, Marik clenched his hand around the pendant. He had stolen it when he had taken over Malik's body when they were young…such a precious thing had tempted him too far. Perhaps it was simply the fact that it was pure gold, or it was also the fact that it once belonged to someone he never knew.

When Marik was small, still growing within Malik's mind, there were times when he would think. Just think. Just think so deeply about life and death and pain and suffering…and at some point, he had wondered whom this locket belonged to, and what that person was like.

He wasn't sure, but on that blimp, Ryou had come into his mind. Despite the fact that Marik had kept the locket a deep secret, he thought, deep inside of him, that Ryou was surely the rightful owner. Such a beautiful, golden locket could only belong to someone as beautiful and as precious as Ryou. And never before had Marik felt any regrets to giving Ryou that locket.

Not even now.

Shaking his head, Marik slipped the locket back into his pocket. Forget it. He wouldn't ponder about such sentimental issues at this moment. Ryou probably would never even want to see that locket ever again, much less hear about why it had been so precious to Marik at some point.

Ryou… 

Sighing, Marik hung his head limply. Why…WHY was the mere name of Ryou driving him insane? Why was he hurting so much, over the lack of Ryou's presence? He had HURT Ryou, for Ra's sake! He was a Darkness…cold…heartless…cruel…he had beaten Ryou, sworn at Ryou, broke Ryou's heart and had taken him by force…

Why was he still caring over Ryou?

_I don't want to love anymore,_ Marik thought bitterly to himself. _But I can't help it. He needs me. He'll die if I'm not there. At least…at least when I hurt him…I was going to be with him all the time anyways…but now he's gone…_

Marik clenched his eyes shut.

_You're a weakling…_he thought to himself harshly. _Don't let these sappy feelings get to you! You don't need Ryou! You don't need anybody! You're Marik, you can go on your own!_

Sighing, Marik raised a hand to his forehead wearily. For a distinct moment, his amethyst eyes glazed to a soft, mournful lavender.

But I don't want to be on my own… 

"Hey!" a voice called. Snapping his head up, Marik's eyes returned to their flashing amethyst. "What are you doing there?"

Narrowing his eyes, Marik straightened. The small, village boy who had called him took a step back in fear, but otherwise stood his ground. "What are you doing there?"

"Do you not know who I am?" Marik asked, his low voice dangerously soft. The villager boy swallowed distinctly, but straightened.

"No," he said firmly. "And I shall have you know that I am the High Priest Karim's younger brother! Do you dare speak to me like that?"

Snarling, Marik lunged at the boy, and grabbed him around the throat.

Crying out, the boy scrambled to loosen Marik's hold on his throat, but Marik would not let go. He had no time to deal with impudent little boys like some High Priest's younger brother.

"And I am Marik," he snapped lowly. "And if you want to live, you will tell me how to get into the dungeon gates. Do you want to live?" He squeezed the boy's throat harder.

The boy gave a strangled cry, and nodded frantically. "Yes! Yes! T-Third…third door around the corner…it's hidden beneath the sand…! But …there …there're guards there, you'll never make them through…!"

Snarling, Marik dropped the boy. The child landed flat on his bottom, but before the child could do anything else, Marik was heading already in that direction. When he reached the corner, Marik turned around, and fumbled with something in his bag.

With a cold look, he threw a gold coin at the child. The boy immediately caught it, and stared at Marik with wide, frightened eyes.

"You never saw me here, got it?" the Shadow Master told him lowly. "And if you do tell anyone, I shall personally sic the Thief King on you. I know those who have higher places than your brother, let me tell you that. So you better keep your mouth shut, got it?"

Nodding frantically at the mention of the Thief King, the child clutched the coin and quickly scrambled away, and out of sight.

Sighing, Marik turned back around. Too lazy to dig through the sand physically, he summoned his Ka, forcing his monster to remain invisible. With a sweep of the mighty silver Winged Dragon of Ra, the sand flew away from Marik's feet, and revealed an old, wooden trap door.

Lock breaking open at his command, the wooden doors swung open, and Marik entered.

* * *

For a while now, Ryou had been encased in nothing but darkness. Pain surged through his blood, flaming and sharp. His muscles throbbed wailingly, desperately wishing for some sort of relief, but the pain kept him wide awake, and he could no longer find comfort in unconsciousness'.

Sobbing, Ryou sank his head into his bound wrists, tears unceasingly flowing from his blackened eye. Oh, Ra, how helpless he felt…

_I betrayed Mariku…_

A wail of despair echoed into the dungeon, and exhausted, Ryou collapsed onto the ground. Even though he had been released from the dreaded metal ring and the horrid wooden torture devices, his legs were surely shattered, and his body was already taken.

_Three…three of them…too many…not at once…_

With each and every flash of terrible memory, Ryou's shoulders shook violently, threatening him to upset the empty contents in his stomach. Gods…never…never had he felt such tearing, searing pain in his passageway…surely Marik would hate him now, if Marik ever came by to get him at all…

_I should've died…I should've died rather than be taken…_

Wailing, Ryou shrank into himself, his mind throbbing thunderously, his vision swirling. His left eye had been far too bruised to even open; and whatever he could see with his right eye, it was merely a disoriented, dizzy blur. He could not even move his shattered legs, not even if the pain from his backside ceased, which would probably never happen.

Ryou's heart broke at the mention of Marik's name. How…how could he have done that? How could Ryou have let his few precious possessions be taken away from him? How could he let _himself_ be taken so easily? Had he no strength? No sense of loyal adrenaline? How could he have let those guards thrust into him and beat him and mock him and humiliate him so easily?

_I am weak…_Ryou thought in misery. _Even to someone I love…the only person I love…I couldn't even fight them off…I couldn't even stop them…I couldn't even protect the only thing that was precious to me and precious to him…_

…_I'm such a weakling…_

Ryou sobbed heartbrokenly. Darkness swirled before him, and he released his choked breath, his lungs burning weakly.

_Oh gods…oh gods…Mariku….Mariku…I'm so sorry…_

The darkness consumed him.

_Please come get me….I'm so sorry…I love you…I always will…_

His breath wisped from his lips.

_Oh gods…Mariku…_

His body sagged against the cold floor.

…_Mariku…please…don't…hate me…_

* * *

For a while, Marik had simply stared at the door in silence.

For a while, he had watched as guards slipped out of the cell, chuckling to one another and tying their sarongs together.

For a while, Marik had no idea what to do.

_Ryou…Ryou…Ryou…._

Would Ryou be glad to see him? Would Ryou be terrified? Would Ryou want to see him at all?

A faint click of the lock echoed in the empty hallway, and the thick door creaked open.

With a heavy sigh, Marik looked around him, and quietly slid into the room.

Immediately, darkness and coldness greeted him, enveloping him with their icy open arms. The cool scent of moss and copper rose to his nose, filling the air with a steely, metallic taste. It seemed as though the entire room was but a large, sharpened knife…cold and smooth and steel to the touch.

At first, Marik could see nothing. The entire room was built with cold, hard bricks, glimmering with dew and fuzzy with moss. Pale moonlight whittled its way through the barred holes at the very top, and it was by these rays Marik's gaze followed.

His heart stopped.

There, lying in a crumpled heap beneath the shimmering moonlight, laid his Ryou.

Immediately, Marik slammed the door and whisked to Ryou's side, falling to one knee in effort to be closer to his Ryou. The naked, cold boy remained motionless, his face hidden in the floor, his white, dirty hair askew.

Gently, Marik placed a hand onto his companion's shoulder. Nothing happened. Gently, he shook Ryou, hoping to receive some sort of response. Again, nothing happened.

Worry larger than his pride, Marik quickly got onto both his knees, both hands now resting on Ryou's cool shoulders. One hand quickly swept Ryou's hair away from his face, and when revealed, Marik's eyes narrowed painfully.

Too overcome by his relief of finding Ryou, Marik had not noticed exactly just how wounded his former lover was. Now, staring into the one, closed eye that faced him, Marik's eyes slowly began to wander…from the red, swelling handprint on Ryou's soft, ivory cheek, to the bruises and burns that littered Ryou's tender back. The name of _Marik _still glimmered with blood, slashed and mutilated among fresh, new whip marks. The name barely looked recognizable among it all. Unable to help himself, Marik winced. It was far worse than whatever he had put Ryou through.

Willing himself not to look at Ryou's wounds, Marik then directed his attention to the soft, broken boy that lay beneath him. Bending over, Marik gently swept Ryou's lank and limp hair further from his face…could Ryou hear him? Would Ryou be happy to see him? Would Ryou scream and shudder in repulsion from him?

Suddenly, Marik felt very cold. His insides writhed nervously, but he willed it away. No. No. Love…was for weaklings…Love did not exist…he merely cared for Ryou…a mere care…

Yet, despite his pride, Marik gently shook Ryou again, and leaned in closer to the unconscious boy's ear. Pausing for a moment, Marik took a deep breath to regain himself, before he whispered softly into Ryou's ear, as he had done so many other times before.

"Ryou?" No response. Softly, Marik brushed Ryou's bangs from his face, revealing dirt and bruises and dried tear streaks. A dried trail of brown blood was cracked down Ryou's temple, but Marik steeled himself to continue. If he were too late…

His insides writhed again.

Gently, he shook Ryou once more, though a bit harder than before. Again, his lips brushed past Ryou's ear, desperately seeking his consciousness.

"Ryou? Ryou…Ryou, wake up," Marik whispered, rubbing the other's cold arms. "Ryou…Ryou wake up. Wake up. I'm here…I'm here now…Wake up, my little thief…wake up…"

Slowly, gradually, a soft stir twitched against Marik's hand. A weak, tiny whimper escaped Ryou's throat, and faintly, as though it considered so much strength, Ryou's one eye opened.

A sigh of relief swept through Marik. He had not even realized he had been holding his breath. Ryou was alive!

But even then, Ryou's one open eye was heavily glazed. It moved unfocusedly, traveling weakly, unable to seek what was holding him so gently. When his pained, brown orb finally fell upon Marik, Ryou gave a very weak gasp.

"M-Ma….Marik…?"

Solemnly, Marik nodded. Softly, he reached out with one hand, and gently placed it beneath Ryou's cheek. Carefully, he raised Ryou's head, his thumb brushing comfortingly against Ryou's swollen skin.

"Yes," Marik whispered. "I'm here."

For a moment, Ryou continued to stare at him, his other eye bruised so badly that he apparently couldn't open it. He blinked a couple of times, his eyelashes fluttering, as though unbelievingly, until a spark of recognition appeared in his eyes. A small, feeble smile appeared across his lips.

"Marik…!"

That voice…oh, how full it sounded…so complete with relief, with happiness, with tearful joy. Marik had never thought Ryou would look at him in such a way again. And yet…here he was…bleeding, wounded, weak…and yet…still looking at Marik with relief and adoration in his eyes. Marik looked away.

How close was he? Marik gritted his teeth, and closed his eyes. No…no…how close was he to losing Ryou…again? This scene…this image…Ryou on the ground, naked, bleeding, dying…it was all too familiar… too familiar…

Suddenly, Marik was broke out of his thoughts, when he felt a faint shifting below him. Snapping around, he saw Ryou attempt to turn over, though this merely rewarded the wounded boy a large amount of pain, which Marik saw, flashing through Ryou's eyes. A pained cry flew from Ryou's lips, and immediately, Marik swept his weakened companion into his arms.

"Don't move," Marik whispered brusquely. He hadn't meant to be rude, or hard, or cold, but it felt so hard to abandon his pride, regardless of the situation. The feeling of Ryou betraying him had left its scar upon his heart, and he was still stubborn and cold about it.

Weakly, Ryou nodded, his eyes slipping shut in pained agony. His breathing was small and shallow, weakly labored, as though he was constantly struggling to fill his lungs with a mite's worth of breath. And yet, despite Marik's mental refusal to succumb to Ryou's care, he couldn't help but feel slightly warm…and slightly sad…when the white-haired boy rested his cheek upon Marik's chest.

Shaking his head, Marik narrowed his eyes, focusing strictly on the situation at hand. Ryou was alive; Ryou was okay…he was okay, dammit! So why was Marik's heart still beating so hard?

It was then when Marik noticed Ryou's bound wrists…how the coarse, frayed cord dug hard into Ryou's soft, tender skin…how there were red welts that crisscrossed Ryou's flesh… immediately, Marik's hand went for his dagger, and pulled it out, about to cut Ryou's bindings.

Suddenly, a fearful cry startled him, and, before he could realize his insensitive mistake, Ryou was weakly thrashing about in his arms, sobbing pitifully and hiding his face.

"M-Master! Master!" Ryou wept, hiding his face. "M-Master! Master! P-please…p-please…no…no more…please….can't…can't take it…can't take more…p-please….!"

"Ryou!" Marik hissed. He quickly dropped his dagger, gathering Ryou closer into his arms, one hand desperately attempting to comfort the boy. "Ryou! No..no…shut up…it's going to be okay…I'm not going to hurt you." Sighing, Marik clutched Ryou closer to him, feeling the paler one shake and tremble violently with fear. So he had been right. Ryou was still afraid of him. Of course.

Weakly, Ryou nodded, his weeping still babbling incoherently. The mere thought of Marik…Marik!…coming to get him…getting him…holding him so close…felt like an absolute dream to Ryou! But at the same time…the dagger…the steel…no more…he couldn't handle any more…not anymore pain….

"P-please…" Ryou begged, tears streaming down his cheeks. "P-please…Mariku….no more…no more…please…I can't…I can't….I can't…"

Closing his eyes, Marik nodded, rubbing Ryou's shoulders comfortingly. He couldn't rub Ryou's back…hardly…not with all those terrible wounds. Gently, he rocked Ryou to and fro, unable to do anything else.

"Shh…shh…" he whispered, patting Ryou gently. "No no…it's okay…no one's going to hurt you…I promise. You won't feel anymore pain, I promise. I promise." He sighed against Ryou's shoulder. "Shut up now…if you cry any more, the guards will hear." Straightening, Marik reached back for his dagger. He gave Ryou a look, though the other boy was still cowering and didn't see. "…I'm not going to hurt you, Ryou," Marik sighed. "Come on…just…don't …don't…" Sighing, Marik grabbed Ryou's wrists, and swiftly cut the bonds.

As Ryou gave a yelp at his new release, Marik hurried forward, abandoning his dagger and wrapping his arms around Ryou once more.

"See?" he whispered, gently cupping Ryou's cheek. "See? I didn't hurt you. There's no more pain. Just like I promised." He gently leaned in forwards, nuzzling Ryou's nose. "Ryou…open your eyes. Come on, open them. You'll be okay, I promise you will. Don't you trust me?"

At this, Ryou opened his eyes weakly. Trust…Marik? After all Marik had put him through?

But Ryou could not deny his heart. Even though he was absolutely terrified at what was still to come, he didn't dare screw up his one sincere moment with his former lover. Marik… Marik had come for him! Just like he promised!

Weakly, Ryou nodded, slowly going limp into Marik's arms. With every strength he possessed, Ryou opened his eyes, weakly staring up into the face of his lover. With a trembling hand, he reached out towards Marik's face…so desperate to touch that same, soft flesh once again. When his fingers just brushed against Marik's dark kohl lines, a feeble smile twitched across Ryou's lips, and he summoned up the biggest smile he could.

"You….you came…" he whispered, his voice hoarse. "You…you came…I …I knew it…I knew you'd come…" A shuddering sigh escaped Ryou's lips, and he rested his eyes, his entire beaten frame shaking at his effort. "…I…thought…I had hoped…I knew…I knew…you'd…come…" He opened his eyes again, and gently, almost in a daze, brushed Marik's bangs out of his eyes. "…j-just like…just like…you…p-proh…missed…" Another shuddering sigh fell from Ryou's lips, and he sank into Marik's arms, his eyes closing once more.

For a moment, Marik simply sat there, staring at the boy in his arms. For a moment…he could've almost felt the same, warm, soothing touch that Ryou's fingers brought…the same, warm, smoothing touch that Marik had forgotten for so long…the same, loving one that they had shared on the blimp…

Nodding silently, Marik gently raised Ryou higher, gently soothing the other's hair away. The weakened one gave a shiver, a flick of pain crossing his delicate features. Marik noticed this immediately, and cupped Ryou's cheek again.

"Where does it hurt?" Marik asked. He brushed his thumb against Ryou's eyes, forcing them to flutter open. "Where does it hurt the most?"

Blinking, Ryou's eyes spilled droplets of warm tears, and for the first time, Marik truly saw the pained depths that were hidden in Ryou's eyes. He continued to run his hand through Ryou's hair, gently soothing the other to tell him his pain, his agony. He wanted to fix it.

Swallowing, Ryou gripped at Marik's shirt, his fingers trembling violently at the force of his attempt to hide his pain. He hadn't wanted to show Marik his wounds…he didn't want to appear weak for Marik…but since Marik asked…

Ryou swallowed again, and squeezed his eyes tightly, pointing with a shaky finger to his immobile legs. Marik's gaze immediately turned to there, noticing that Ryou's once slender, smooth, unblemished legs were frozen and still. With a tentative hand, he reached out and laid it onto Ryou's calf, and Ryou gave a scream.

Instantly, Marik withdrew his hand, replacing it over Ryou's mouth. Fresh tears spilled through Ryou's screwed eyes, his entire frame shaking so violently, Marik feared that the other would convulse. What could have possibly hurt Ryou's legs so terribly to bring this much pain?

Sobbing and moaning, Ryou gripped against Marik harder, his body shaking like mad. Oh, the pain! The pain! Weeping, he collapsed against Marik's chest, sobbing pathetically.

"Th-They….they…" Swallowing, Ryou collapsed into Marik's arms, gasping deeply for air. "They…they…p-put my legs...into something….and …and…" Again, Ryou cried out in agony, writhing in pain against Marik's chest. "…I can't…I can't move them…I can't…walk…please…Mariku…p-please…!"

"Silence," Marik commanded cuttingly. Ryou instantly fell silent, staring at Marik with wide, tear-filled brown eyes. The Egyptian, however, was merely looking at Ryou's legs, a cross and concentrating expression on his face. He turned slowly, and gave Ryou a piercing look. "I can't think with you blathering so much."

Weakly, Ryou nodded, and closed his eyes when Marik placed him back on the ground. Despite the flaming pain that engulfed his back and swarmed his skin, Ryou bit his lip hard, determined not to make a sound to upset Marik.

Frowning, Marik bent forwards, careful to merely examine Ryou's legs, rather than touching them. He had never heard of such a device that Ryou spoke of, but apparently, they pain was far too much for Ryou to handle. Too much for Ryou to even move them.

Experimentally, Marik gently reached out, and lifted one of Ryou's calves. Immediately, a high-pitched cry emanated from Ryou's bleeding lips, and Marik hastily put it back down. Though Marik wasn't sure exactly what had happened, he decided to do as much as he could…after all…Ryou was still in pain, despite how desperately he acted as though he were not.

After searching around a bit, Marik found a long wooden stick, which must've been used to beat prisoners to death. At any rate, he broke it cleanly in half, and began to place one of them against Ryou's right leg, making a crude, makeshift splint. The tortured Light gave another high-pitched whimper at the touch, but there was nothing he could do.

Sighing, Marik closed his eyes. After he had found some rolls of linen in his bag, he began dutifully to wrap Ryou's leg against the splint. He was silent all the while, trying his best to block out Ryou's high-pitched whimper and wretched sobs.

He continued to wrap Ryou's legs; first his right, then his left, with each half of the wooden stick. When he was finished, Ryou had collapsed so limply, that Marik's heart feared that the other had fainted. But a gentle stroke against Ryou's hot forehead fluttered Ryou's eyes open, and Marik forced himself to give the weakened other a comforting smile.

"It's going to be alright," Marik said softly, gently stroking Ryou's swollen cheeks. "Just hang in there a little longer. We'll be home soon. I promise."

For a moment, Ryou's eyes merely fluttered again, their dark depths clouded and glazed with pain. A brief spark flickered behind them, and after a moment, he whispered hoarsely, "H-home?"

Solemnly, Marik nodded, his fingers soothing into Ryou's dirty, lank hair.

"Yes," Marik said, very quietly. "Home."

Once again, Ryou's eyes flickered briefly, before he squeezed them shut. His body began to tremble again, before tears managed to spill through his screwed eyelids.

"I…I'm so sorry…" he whispered, whimpering. "I'm so sorry…I'm so sorry…they took my ring…they took my ring…they took everything…oh gods…" Sobbing hard, Ryou burst into more tears, covering his face with his scraped hands. "I'm so sorry…I'm so sorry…I'm so sorry!"

"Shut up," Marik said gently. He softly grasped a couple of lank of hair, tugging on them tenderly. "Shut up. Forget about it for now. Don't be such a crybaby." Carefully, he slid one arm around Ryou's shoulder blades, and delicately pushed Ryou up. The Light sucked in a whimper, his back arching from the pain of his whip marks and his bruises. Quietly, Marik slithered behind the Light, and began patting the wounds gently on Ryou's back with his cloak.

"Nnnggg…AH!" Ryou cried out, squeezing his eyes shut as Marik tried to cleanse each strip as carefully as he could. Fresh tears spilled down Ryou's eyes, and he nearly collapsed with each passing minute. Sighing silently, Marik focused at the task at hand, and as soon as he was done with cleaning Ryou's wounds, he immediately began to wrap them.

"You're wounded very badly," Marik said, very softly. "Just try to make it through, alright?"

Swallowing, Ryou gave another choked sob, before slumping against Marik's hold. Oh Ra…how warm did Marik feel! It felt as though it had been an eternity since Ryou had felt Marik's arms hold him so protectively…

"M-Marik…" Ryou suddenly whimpered. He quickly clenched his fists, struggling to hold onto something in attempt to release the pain that was coursing through his tortured veins. "Y-you…you won't…leave me…will you?" Swallowing, Ryou turned around as best he could. His eyes welled. "Will you?"

For a brief moment, Marik paused, but he refused to look at Ryou straight in the face. For a few, tense, silent minutes, Marik merely continued to bandage Ryou's wounds, until he had wrapped Ryou's entire torso in white.

"…We'll talk about that when we get home," Marik said softly. "For now, just rest." Finally, he raised his head, and stared at Ryou with distant amethyst eyes. A trace of lavender swirled within them, and Ryou lowered his head.

"P-please….please Mariku…" he whispered. "I…I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…please….please…I'll do anything…anything…just please….don't…" He looked up again, his brown eyes swimming with tears. "Please don't leave me!" With that, Ryou broke down sobbing, throwing himself at Marik and wrapping his arms around the other's waist.

For a moment, Marik was abruptly thrown off-guard, but he merely stood still. The sad little voice in his head wailed heartbrokenly at the sight of Ryou so wretchedly miserable.

_Oh gods…Ryou….Ryou…don't cry…don't cry…_

Sighing, Marik forced down his conscience. No…Ryou had betrayed him…Ryou had left him…Ryou had said he hated him…

_But it was all a lie…_the voice whispered desperately. _There was never anything going on with Ryou and Bakura! He was confused! He was hurt! Please, Mariku….don't…don't hurt him again…he needs you…!_

Sighing again, Marik conceded defeat with his conscience. As though it took great difficulty, he raised his hand, and gently began to stroke Ryou's hair. And after a few moments, this fell into routine, and after a while, Ryou's sobs began to soften.

"Don't cry so much," Marik whispered, harsher than he meant to. "I'm not going to leave." He gently slithered one hand beneath Ryou's chin, and forced the other to look up at him. "All I want you to do is hang in there," he whispered. His amethyst eyes traveled slowly around Ryou's face. "You're heavily wounded. It's easy for you to succumb into a faint. Just promise me you won't do that."

Whimpering, Ryou nodded, clutching hard against Marik's robes. Such a request was easy to obey, if Ryou's legs hadn't been shattered so mercilessly. But if Marik asked for it, Ryou knew that he was going to try anyway.

Without a word, Marik swept Ryou into his arms. A small, strangled cry escaped Ryou's lips, and more tears spilled down his cheek. Throbbing, endless pain shot through his calves and up his backside, and he arched his back in agony, sobbing wretchedly.

Looking away, Marik attempted to ignore Ryou's cries and sobs. Maybe if he didn't listen, maybe it wouldn't hurt so much.

Silently, he slipped from the dungeon, and headed home, his heart's desire in his arms.

* * *

Hmn, I warned you there'd be angst.

Tons of angst.

Fifteen chapters worth of angst, and if it wasn't clear to you guys (because I'm a crappy crappy writer when I'm living on decaffeinated Cola) (and because I was working on this chapter on and off), what happened was that Ryou was tortured and beaten and taken against his will in order to tell the guards who was betraying the pharaoh. The guards suspected Marik, but Ryou would not say anything, except admit that he was the one who betrayed Marik; something Ryou really doesn't want to do.

I wished I could emphasize how much it hurt Ryou to lose his locket and ring; all that buildup for a paragraph's worth of nothing. (Is sad) But it was mentioned that the locket and the ring was the most important to Ryou; he would even sacrifice the Millennium Ring for Marik's locket.

At any rate, Marik's still caught between admitting his love for Ryou, and not. When he's alone, he'll admit it to himself, but he's still debating about telling Ryou now. I think everyone just did a sudden one-eighty.

Crud. Now it's going to be hard to write Marik again. (sobs) NK Marik is SO HARD TO WRITE! I don't want to write him weak! (kicks the computer) Grr…I need Yami Bakura in here soon…ugh…

Oh yes. I have decided that there will be Thief Bakura x Malik lemon! …somewhere. Soon. Since, er, Ryou and Marik can't do much right now anyways…

Anyways, more angst to come, please do not hate me. I'm literally dying here at home, and I know its' hard to enjoy this sort of angst. I'm so sorry.

-AL


	20. Two Sided Mind, Two Sided Heart

Hell crappy chapter, but I got six exams this week over the course of five days. Give me a break. And no, I won't be updating Destiny Prophecies, Sphere and Stone for a while; it's just way too long, and plus, I only feel motivation to write when my reviewers right tons and tons of critique. It makes me feel like as if you guys actually read the whole thing, and thought about it. How do I know if the chapter was good if all I got for a review was "update"?

At any rate, its not your problem, NK reviewers. Just my YGO/HP crossover readers. At any rate, please read and review; I know this chapter sucks like heck, but I'm going by on four hours of sleep each day. Please, give me a break. (faints and collapses)

ONTO THE STORY!

Btw, I've heard Thief Baku's voice in English and in Jap. IN THE ENGLISH HE SOUNDS SO GAY! XD. He sounds like Yami Bakura…except…gayer…OO. His pitch is a lot higher, and so is Yami Bakura's, come to think of it. I think it's because Ted Lewis got too used to doing Alistars (Amelda in the Japanese) voice for the Doma series. Alistar/ Amelda has a high voice.

AND THIEF BAKU'S VOICE IN THE JAP….DROOL. Not deep or rich or anything like that..he just sounds like a plain old teenager, of some sort. He laughs so much, and he's so laidback in terms of attitude; doesn't make corny little jokes like "there's work to be done, if memory serves me correctly" and "one can't be too dressed to visit the palace…" He just literally storms into the palace and instead of an English-Yami-Bakura-monoluge, he goes, "GIMME." KAWAII.

ONTO DA STORY!

* * *

Chapter Twenty: Two-Sided Mind, Two-Sided Heart

Sighing, Marik ran a hand through his hair. His earrings clinked softly against his armbands as he did so, echoing lonely in the vast, silent room.

Beside him, tucked in bed and whimpering softly in his sleep, lay Ryou.

He had brought Ryou home as fast as he could, trying his best to ignore Ryou's occasional cry of pain and shudder of agony. He had brought Ryou home with haste, quickly transferring the near-faint Ryou to Malik's arms, in which Malik ran with equal haste to his sister. Bakura had watched in indescribable silence, his red-brown eyes always traveling silently from Ryou, to Marik.

They had quickly run into the nearest room to lay Ryou down to rest; unfortunately, it was also the same room that Marik had tortured his lover in two, three nights before. Clouded by unconsciousness and agony, Ryou had been utterly terrified. No matter what anyone did, he could barely calm down enough to let Isis heal him.

It was then when Ryou had sobbed desperately for Bakura, breaking Marik's heart.

And yet, Bakura hadn't replied. The Thief King had merely sat there, watching the entire exchange silently. When Ryou began to cry in fear as Isis began to summon her healing Ka, Bakura finally gruffly turned his eyes to Marik.

_"Silly hikari. You don't need to be scared."_

Sighing, Marik sank into a chair, closing his eyes tiredly.

_"Landlord, host, vessel…your lover is watching in the doorway. Marik?"_

A soft push…a soft, broken push from Malik, who had been standing in the doorway behind Marik. Him walking forwards…his senses so numb…approaching the bloody altar in which he had broken Ryou's trust and heart and happiness and love…

_"Marik…Mariku…?"_

How his hand had found its way to Ryou's face, softly coaxing the other to open his eyes. How when those eyelashes had fluttered open, they revealed deep, chocolate brown eyes twinkling with tears of fear, and clouded with shoots of agony. How Ryou could barely even recognize Marik's form through his anguished haze.

_"Ma…Mariku…."_

Healing was no easy task. There was no calm, serene healing. No. Even now, Marik could still hear Ryou's anguished cries; how he writhed because his bones were being flown back together; how his lashes were being knitted as fast as they could; how his lungs burned for air and his face grew hotter and hotter…

"He has a fever."

Startled, Marik shook himself from his thoughts, and turned towards the voice.

"What do you mean?" he snapped.

There, standing before him, was Isis. Behind her stood a tearful Malik, and a grim-looking Thief Bakura.

Sighing softly, Isis glided forwards, sitting herself at Ryou's bed. Gently, she bent forwards and softly brushed away Ryou's sweaty bangs, revealing his flushed cheeks and sweating forehead.

"Can you not tell?" she whispered. "His fever is far too high."

"He has a fever?" Marik repeated. Quickly, he turned to Ryou and laid a hand on the other's head. Eyes widening, he quickly retrieved his hand. He looked at Isis.

"How did he get like this?" he demanded. "How did you know he had a fever!"

"He's had a fever since the yatch!" Malik cried suddenly. "I told him to rest! I told him to rest! He was sick on the way to Egypt! How could you not know!"

"Bloody hell, he was sick before that," Bakura muttered. "I told him to get some sleep, but no…he had to go on an escapade around Domino…nearly got his locket and ring stolen, stupid host…"

Marik whipped around and stared at them all. Anger flashed through his eyes.

"Why did no one INFORM ME!" he bellowed in rage. Malik burst into tears and Bakura narrowed his eyes hatefully, promptly stepping forwards and hiding Malik behind him.

"Well, GREAT MASTER OF SEME-SAMA," Bakura bellowed back, just as loud as Marik, "HE'S YOUR BLOODY LOVER! HOW COULD _YOU _NOT KNOW! WE ALL DID!"

"Then someone could have TOLD ME!" Marik bellowed back, advancing on Bakura. "YOU! YOU DARE TO COME IN AT ALL! AFTER ALL YOU'VE DONE TO RYOU…"

"Oh, blaming me now, isn't it?" Bakura yelled back. "Well, gee, don't ask anyone else, but I think you did A CRAPPY JOB OF TAKING CARE OF RYOU! HE'S BETTER OFF WITH ME, YOU INSANE, POWER-HUNGRY PSYCHOPATH!'

"HOW DARE YOU TALK TO ME THAT WAY…!" Marik roared. "YOU, PETTY LITTLE THIEF, YOU DARE…"

"Marik…SHUT UP!" Malik cried.

With everything he had, Malik pushed Bakura aside, and brought his hand across Marik's face.

For a moment, everyone stared, absolutely dumbfounded. For a while, everyone was silent, watching as both Marik and Malik panted in anger and hate; one with his lavender eyes ablaze with tears, and the other's amethyst ones flashing with rage as he held a hand to his face.

"You…you worthless piece of Ishtal TRASH!" Marik bellowed. He snapped upright, reeling his fist back…"GO TO HELL!"

"SHIT!"

Cursing, Bakura pushed Malik out of the way, grabbing Marik's wrist as soon as he came into arm's reach. Both let out angry roars, before attempting to attack one another. Pottery crashed and drawers tumbled as both Egyptians struggled against one another. Both eyes of the enemies flashed as their fists pounded against one another's flesh; brown to angry, blood red, and deep amethyst to bright white.

"No! STOP!" Malik cried. He attempted to jump into the fight, but to no avail. Bakura was not going to let him help. "MARIK! STOP!"

"ENOUGH!"

With a massive wave of energy, the Sennen Tauk flashed brightly, blinding the two Egyptians straight in their eyes. Yelling in sudden shock and agony, both immediately released themselves, and clutched at their eyes. With another wave of force, the Tauk shimmered, and both were swept away and into the opposite walls. Drawers and pottery crashed in their path.

After a while, the light dimmed, and silence crept again, broken except for the deep panting from Marik and Bakura.

"Damned priestess," Bakura hissed, wiping his mouth. "I swear to you, after Mahaado…"

"You will do nothing to Mahaado, Bakura," Isis said sharply. "My patience may grow longer with you merely because you are my brother's love, but that does not mean that I shall let you get away for killing a priest!" She rounded on Marik, her blue eyes flashing. "And you! Such immature behavior! Marik, I expected more from you! Control your temper!"

"Easy for you to say," Marik snarled, getting up. "Insanity runs in the family, does it not, _sister_?" he sneered. Isis narrowed her eyes.

"Do not speak of our father like that," she said firmly, though her voice was quiet. Marik let out a cruel laugh.

"No, I suppose not, you didn't have much fun watching me kill him, did you?" Marik laughed icily. "Good-for-nothing bastard, you ought to be glad…"

"BASTARD!" Bakura yelled suddenly. He leapt to his feet and snarled at Marik. "You ought to be glad you have a father at all! You're just like the pharaoh! After I destroy the pharaoh, I swear, I am coming after you next!"

"Bakura!" Isis gasped. "How dare you…"

"How dare YOU?" Bakura snarled spitingly at Isis. "You know NOTHING of the deaths and massacre of Kuru Eruna! You are all the same! Priestess, priest, pharaoh…all of you! Royalty lines are nothing but injustice and hate! I hate you all! You ought to be glad that Malik has kept me from destroying you! DAMN YOU ALL!"

Panting heavily, Bakura grabbed a nearby vase, and threw it at Marik. He then grabbed another one, and hurtled it at Isis. With a crash, both vases shattered against the wall behind each aim, and Bakura panted heavily.

"Damn you all," Bakura hissed. He turned to Marik. "Damn you too. For once, Ryou had actually found comfort in someone other than the spirits of the dead…and yet, you just had to break it. You just had to destroy him. Just for you own, selfish, sick pleasure. You make me SICK, Marik! SICK!" With an enraged snarl, he spat at Marik's feet, and promptly stomped out of the room, red cloak flapping behind him. A faint silhouette of Diabound appeared behind him, though it soon disappeared along with Bakura.

"Marik…?" a soft voice whimpered.

Suddenly, Marik snapped his head back to the bed. Gasping softly, Isis quickly sat back down and laid a hand on Ryou's chest, while Malik hurried to his side and knelt on the floor. Whimpering softly, Ryou gradually began to open his eyes, his eyelashes fluttering weakly.

"Marik…?"

"He's right here," Isis said softly. Gently, she began to stroke Ryou's bangs away from his face comfortingly. "He's right here." Out of the corner of her eye, she discreetly nodded her head towards Ryou, motioning Marik to come.

With a suppressed sigh, Marik ran a hand through his hair, and walked forwards. However, he merely stood beside the bed, his arms crossed over his chest, making sure that Ryou was in absolutely no range to touch him at all.

However, this did not prevent Ryou from trying. With a high-pitched, near-wail whimper, he tried to reach out to Marik, his fingers trembling weakly. Worried, Isis quickly entwined her own fingers in Ryou's, since Marik had made no move to reach out himself.

"Save your energy, Ryou," Isis whispered. "You're wounded heavily and you're very weak. I've tried to heal everything, but this is as much as I can do…" She gently brushed Ryou's bangs once more. "Shhh….we're all here Ryou…we're all here…"

"M-Marik," Ryou whimpered again. He opened his eyes fully, and they darted around painfully in desperate attempt to find Marik. "M-Marik….Marik…"

"He's right here," Isis whispered. "Right here. Aren't you, brother?'

Hissing at Isis, Marik glared at her, before taking one step reluctantly to the bed. However, despite his glare, he didn't meet Ryou's eyes. Instead, they looked away towards his right, staring piercingly at the wall. With a sigh, Isis turned back to Marik, glaring up at him somewhat subdued.

"Marik, he wants you," she said softly. Her blue eyes narrowed and clouded with concern. "Be here for him."

"I'm already here for him," Marik said shortly, still staring at the wall. Maybe if he stared at the wall angrily enough, Isis wouldn't guess how it hurt him still to hear Ryou crying…

Shaking softly, Ryou hiccupped, his eyes spilling over with tears as he clutched Isis's hand, squirming beneath the sheets.

"M-Marik…Marik…I want Marik…Marik…"

"Marik," Isis whispered disapprovingly. "Come here now! Ryou needs you and he's not going to calm down without you."

Again, Marik merely stared stonily at the wall. "I don't care," he lied, sounding deceivingly honest. Again, Ryou hiccupped, clutching at Isis's hand desperately as he attempted to open his exhausted eyes. More tears spilled down his cheeks as a result, blinding him with their opaque droplets.

"M-Marik…Mariku…Mariku please…please…want…want Mariku…!"

"Don't be such a crybaby!" Marik suddenly snapped. He whipped around, and promptly grabbed Ryou by the shoulders, heaving him from the bed and shaking him violently. "STOP IT! STOP CRYING, DAMMIT!"

"Marik!" Isis gasped. She quickly grabbed her brother's wrists and attempted to stop him from shaking Ryou so violently; the white-haired boy was being shook so severely that his white haired head could only be seen as a white something bobbing back and forth. Angrily, Marik shoved Isis away, causing the priestess to stumble back and trip.

"Isis!" Malik cried.

"Marik!" Isis cried again. "Stop this right now!"

"Stop….stop…stop crying..!" Marik was growling. "I brought you here! I brought you back! Aren't you happy, you Ra-forsaken bitch! I BROUGHT YOU BACK! YOU DON'T NEED TO CRY ANYMORE! STOP RA-DAMNED CRYING!"

"Marik!" Malik bellowed. "MARIK! DAMMIT, STOP IT!" With all his might, Malik leapt from his place at the floor, and rammed his shoulders into Marik.

With a grunt, Marik released his hold on Ryou, causing the other to drop limply back onto the mattress, with a faint and dull _thump._ Growling, both Ishtals were about to get into another fight, when Isis quickly used Malik's diversion to its best advantage. Swiftly grabbing Marik's wrist, Isis yanked hard on it, and with Malik's help, dragged Marik out of the room.

A jerk of his heart brought Marik back to reality when he realized he was being taken out of the room….hastily looking back, he saw Ryou groaning and whimpering softly in confusion, more tears spilling from his closed eyes. With all the strength he seemed to possess, Ryou tried to turn around, and flopped to the other side of the bed. Before Marik was led entirely out of the room and out of sight, Ryou's eyes finally focused, and just before the door shut, Ryou tried to raise a shaky hand towards him.

"M-Ma…Marik…ku…w-wait…"

The door shut.

Sighing silently, Marik bowed his head. He couldn't help be so frustrated at the moment. Though his heart longed and ached to hold Ryou in his arms, his pride held him within its cage. The scar that was still across his heart was still fresh from Ryou's assumed betrayal, and at times, the Shadows seemed to be randomly controlling him.

He hadn't meant to be so mean…he just wanted Ryou to stop crying so badly…

Suddenly, both Malik and Isis stopped abruptly, and turned to Marik. With a tearful, angry expression on his face, Malik launched forward and promptly attempted to strike Marik across the face. Of course, Marik immediately caught his bearings and coldly stopped it with his one hand, watching expressionlessly as the former Light strained against his fist

"Damned bastard," Malik growled through clenched teeth. Angry lavender eyes shined up at him, wide and filled with hot, angry tears. Golden bangs lay in a messy, sweaty skew, just short of narrowed eyelashes.

With everything he had, Malik began to pound his fists on Marik's chest repeatedly, yelling his frustration all the while.

" I HATE YOU!" he yelled. "I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU! HOW CAN YOU DO THIS TO HIM! HE WAS GOING TO GO BACK TO YOU! HE WAS GOING TO GO BACK! DAMN YOU!"

"Malik, please calm down," Isis whispered softly. Sobbing, Malik shook his head, continuing to beat the stone Marik with his fists.

"NO! I hate him! I hate him so much! I hate you! I hate you so much, Marik! Ryou's going to die because of you!"

"Ryou's not going to die because of me," Marik snapped harshly suddenly. He swiftly gripped Malik's wrists and effortlessly stopped the other's onslaught. "He's not going to die."

"He might," Isis said quietly. She laid a hand on Malik's shoulder, who was still staring up at Marik with hatred glowing in his lavender eyes. "Brother, don't make matters worse…Ryou will get better soon…"

"No he's not!" Malik sobbed, tearing himself away from Marik. "No he's not! You told me so! You said his bones were weak, that he could be nearly crippled for life! You said there was a bare chance he could walk at all! You said that his lungs were too weakened already, that he couldn't breathe sometimes! YOU SAID HE COULD DIE!"

"His fever is very high, Malik," Isis whispered desperately. "I'm doing all that I can, but the bones in his legs are severely weakened…through all this traumatic experiences, I don't think Ryou can survive. Especially with his fever. You know he's a bit…"

"He's not touched in the head, if that's what you mean," Marik said abruptly. He glared at Isis. "And what do you mean, he's going to die? Ryou's not going to die! I'm not going to let him!"

"You're not Ra, Marik!" Malik snapped. "Ryou…Ryou…my best friend…my best friend is going to die…he's going to die because of YOU!" He whipped around and snarled at Marik. "He's going to hallucinate! He's going to have nightmares! His fever gives him nightmares! He's not going to sleep! He's not going to eat! MARIK, HE'S GOING TO DIE!" Sobbing, Malik hid his face in his hands, completely breaking down. "He's going to die…he's going to die…he's going to die…"

"He is NOT going to DIE!" Marik bellowed. "I won't let him! I'll stop him! I will make sure he's alive!"

"To what? Torture him and hurt him again?" Malik screamed. "DAMN YOU MARIK!"

"Be quiet, both of you!" Isis yelled sharply. Both fell silent and stared at Isis dumbly. Isis never yelled before.

"Now listen to me carefully," she whispered. Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Ryou's state is very weakened right now. After all that he is been though, I am not sure he will pull through. If it was just one incident, I know he could, but he had been beaten for three nights straight. Not just by the soldiers either." At this, she gave a sharp glance at Marik. "His mental state is very unbalanced. Malik has already notified me that Ryou has a tendency to have nightmares when he is sick. He won't be able to heal that way."

"I know," Marik said irritably. "I knew that! Don't give me this sort of crap, Isis! I know Ryou! I know he will pull though!"

"Alone, he can't!" Isis exclaimed. "Marik, look at him! The guards had nearly beaten him to death! YOU had nearly beaten him to death! And since he was already sick before hand, the wounds that are still healing right now will just make him sicker! His fever will grow higher! His mind may collapse! Marik, you must stay with him at all times!"

"Why does it have to be me?" Marik snapped angrily. "Why can't it be _Bakura_, or _Malik_? Someone Ryou actually _loves?_"

"BECAUSE HE STILL LOVES YOU!" Malik bellowed. "YOU IDIOT, THICK-SKULLED, EMPTY-HEADED, INSENSTIVE, COLD-HEARTED….!"

"Like you're an angel yourself, Malik!" Marik yelled back. "DO NOT tell me what to do with Ryou! I shall handle him the way I see fit!"  
"The way I see fit is to give him these pills," Isis interrupted sternly. From her pocket, she produced a small, leather pouch and laid it in Marik's hand. She pointed to them. "These are pills," she said sternly. "They will help him when he sleeps. They will allow him to fall into painless, dreamless slumber. He will actually be able to sleep in peace. If you want Ryou to live, this is his best bet."

Growling, Marik pocked the pouch. "I'm not going to give it to him."

"I don't understand why you are being so stubborn," Isis sighed exasperately. "I'm trying to help you, Marik! It's bad enough Bakura is in love with Malik and Malik is in love with him, especially since Bakura wants to kill one of our priests! If I get caught even being in the same room with him, I may be punished!"

"Good!" Marik exclaimed. "Excellent! A perfect plan to lock up the know-it-all-sister. Let me get one thing straight. Ryou is MY property, therefore _I _make the decisions for him! And if I don't want to give him these damn pills, then I won't! Ryou can make it on his own! He's stronger than he looks!"

"Funny, didn't think you could see that," Malik said spitefully. "I'm done talking with you, Marik! You make me sick! Bakura was right! You and Yami are alike!"

"Malik!" Isis scolded. "Do not speak of our pharaoh that way!"

Wrinkling his nose hatefully, Malik nodded with strain. "Fine. Yami and Marik are not alike. At least Yami wouldn't beat Yugi to death. Or anyone else."

Marik let out a harsh, spiteful laughter. "You're kidding me. Yami? Not hurt someone? The pharaoh is a sap for that sort of thing! Of course he's never hurt anyone. No…" Marik's lips twitched in to an evil grin. "No…that's my thing, isn't it? Mine and Bakura's thing…"

"Sick bastard!" Malik yelled.

He stomped his foot and grabbed Marik's cloak, so that they were merely a few inched face to face.

"Now listen here," Malik hissed venomously. "Ryou came to me and Bakura when he ran away from you. He wanted to go back to you! He wanted to go back and apologize! Dammit, now he's lying on his deathbed, and you don't' even have the decency to take care of him! You sick bastard!"

With a frustrated cry, Malik shoved Marik away from him as hard as he could, and promptly stalked away into the darkness.

"Good riddance," Marik snarled, staring hatefully at the darkness in which Malik had disappeared off to. Behind him, Isis sighed.

"If you do not wish to use those pills then," she sighed, "then you may as well bring him to me sometime in the next week. I'll heal him again, just to make sure. Does that sound alright to you, Marik?"

Snarling, Marik turned around, and glared at the priestess.

"Whatever," he muttered. He turned away again, crossing his arms over his chest. "Leave me now," he said coldly. "I do not want to be disturbed."

With another sigh, Isis bowed her head, closing her eyes. Silently, she turned and gracefully departed in the other direction, slowly disappearing around the oil-lit corner.

When the sounds of footsteps finally ceased, Marik sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly. Ryou…how was his Ryou…? He hadn't talked to Ryou for a while to think of it, ever since he came back from the Shadows, Marik had never asked Ryou much of his life. How was Ryou now?

His insides writhed slightly. Almost subconsciously, he slowly reached into his pocket with his hand, and slipped out the broken locket.

A subdued, lavender look swirled in his eyes as he watched his ghostly fingers trailing softly over the smooth, golden cover, tracing its outline almost affectionately…

Without his intent, his fingers suddenly clicked the locket open.

Two smiling faces stared back at him.

One of them, of course, was himself…though he seemed different. His eyes were not as sharp and cold and hateful as he knew they were. If anything, they were a soft, rich lavender, a perfect blend between his cold, dark amethyst eyes and Malik's pastel shades.

On the other side, was a picture of a boy. Though donning a mature, pale sweater, his face was young and chuberic. His deep brown eyes twinkled with such mirth and happiness that they seemed to be reflections of stars themselves…or of chocolate sprinkled with sugar…

Soft, silver hair curved around his equally soft, smooth cheeks, hugging their healthy round curves gently. The rest of his long, silver hair rested against his shoulders, like a flurry of snowflakes on a fresh winter's day. A soft, cheerful, ecstatic grin smiled up at Marik, and for a moment, he could literary feel Ryou's melodious laughter.

Abruptly, he closed the locket, and stuffed it back in his pocket. Darkness swirled around him once again, but he ignored it. His mind set and his face in a determined glare, he roughly pushed his way through the doors of his room.

Awakened, Ryou jumped at the sudden noise. Marik watched expressionlessly as he gazed at the white-haired in the bed, struggling to focus his eyes and breathe properly at the same time. His breath was hitched and his chest was heaving, but Ryou finally seemed to manage to focus his eyes. A twinkle of recognition shimmered within them as they fell upon Marik.

"M-Marik!"

Sighing, Marik stalked towards the bed. Whimpering softly, Ryou scrambled to sit up onto his knees, but this only resulted in futility. As Marik watched Ryou attempt to sit up, his heart stirred sadly, and again, almost subconsciously, he reached out with a hand, and pushed Ryou back down onto the bed.

"Rest," he said firmly, his voice soft. As he straightened, his eyes slowly trailed away from Ryou, and returned to the wall. "You're going to make yourself sick again," he said monotonously.

Swallowing softly, Ryou nodded. Shivering weakly, the white-haired one collapsed against the bed again, relaxing his muscles and growing limp. Everything…felt…just so …sore….it was almost as though his entire skin was tingling with numbed pain, as though his nerve cells had been to severed to even detect the agony properly.

Yet, despite his hazed suffering, Ryou's battered heart couldn't help but leap slightly into his chest. Relieved warmth swept through his chest, almost calming him instantly of his agony. Marik…Marik was here…Marik had saved him…

And oh, how Ryou's heart yearned for Marik's hand…for Marik's hand on his own…for him to sooth him softly, comfort him gently, stroke his hair and whisper words into his ears….oh, how Ryou needed it so badly…

Marik suddenly sat himself on the bed.

Blinking weakly, Ryou slowly turned his head to the side in puzzlement. Even though Marik was sitting by his waist, the other showed no indication at all that Ryou was even alive…in fact, Marik seemed to be as hard and as cold as ever, staring piercingly straight in front of him.

Guilty, Ryou turned his head away. His cold insides writhed. Would…did…was Marik mad at him, still? Had Marik found out about what had happened in the dungeons? H-had he found out that indeed, Ryou had betrayed him, allowed his belongings to be taken away from him so easily, and then be taken again? Did Marik hate him?

_He would if he knew…_Ryou thought in miserable dismay. _If he knew…if he knew what they did…what I did…I betrayed him…._

Whimpering softly, Ryou shut his eyes tight. Tears began to gather at the corner of his squeezed eyes, his whole lithe frame straining from his attempt to stop them.

_Don't cry don't cry don't cry…_

"Stop crying."

Squeaking faintly, Ryou blinked open his eyes. Turning his head around again, he faced the other who was sitting on his bed, confusion sparkling through tears in his eyes. Marik was still sitting in the same spot as ever, even staring at the same spot at the walls. However, his amethyst eyes were now swirling with faint traces of lavender, and when he spoke, his voice was soft.

"I thought I told you stop crying," he said, in a soft, quieted voice. His tone still seemed rather stern, but it seemed to be having a hard strain upon it, as though it required a great amount of courage and strength to speak such words. "I brought you back, didn't I? You're home, you're in bed, you're healed, and people who obviously care for you surround you. Malik…Isis…even Bakura…they're all here. Why are you still crying?"

Sighing softly, Marik slowly turned around, and finally focused his eyes upon Ryou's own. For a moment, Ryou could feel those familiar, enchanting amethyst eyes stir a warm beat within him…the small glowing warmth that swirled hidden behind cold purple stone…

"Stop crying," Marik murmured softly. "You know how much I hate to see you cry."

Hiccupping, Ryou nodded weakly, his fists clutching against the sheets of the bed. With another sigh, Marik looked away, his eyes distant and discreetly mourning.

"I know we haven't been doing well lately," Marik said quietly. "At least…together. But there's no point…I'm always going to be like this, no matter what Fate hands me. I'll always be the way I am: Marik…hard, cold, and ruthless. So I don't think we should….you should….bother at all…"

Ryou suddenly shook his head. "No!"

Blinking, Marik straightened and stared at Ryou, his narrowed eyes widening warily. A flash of amethyst surged through them, and Ryou blushed sadly and looked away.

"I-I mean…I k-know what you mean," he whispered hesitantly, "but…maybe…maybe it's not…it's not you… maybe it's because…we haven't been talking much since you came back… m-maybe we should just…talk a bit…every day, maybe…or something…" Eyes pleading, Ryou looked back up, his fingers gripping the sheets tightly. "P-please…Mariku…don't go…I don't want you to go…"

"You don't want me to go?" Marik repeated disbelievingly. "But don't you hate me? Aren't you afraid of me? What's the matter with you!"

Hiccupping loudly, more tears spilled their way through Ryou's eyes and down his cheeks. His lower lip trembled and he shakily shook his head.

"N-nothing..I…I…" Suddenly Ryou burst into tears. Sobbing helplessly, he curled onto his side and hid his face into his knees, wailing miserably. Marik heaved another exasperated sigh.

"What is the matter with you?" he snapped. "I'm trying to be civil and yet you act as though I've threatened you! Great Ra, can NOTHING satisfy you!"

Hiccupping, Ryou shook his head. "N-no…it's not that…"

"Then what is it?" Marik snapped impatiently. "If you have nothing good to say, I'd rather just leave right now and get out of your life forever. It's blatantly obvious I'm doing nothing good to you."

"B-but…you are…" Ryou whispered. Another hiccup bubbled past his lips. "…You…you saved me…you took me away…you brought me home…"

"And I also beat you, hit you, yelled at you, tortured you, swore at you, and hated you!" Marik snapped back. "How can you possibly still want me here with you after all that?"

"I---I don't know…." Ryou whimpered helplessly. "I just…I just do! I can't…I can't …I feel so scared without you…I…I just…I …I need you!"

"So that's the only reason why you want me here?" Marik asked bitterly. "Just because you want me to protect you? Well, Bakura and Malik can do that just fine for you. You don't need me here."

"Yes I do!" Ryou cried. "I need you! I need you so badly! P-please, Mariku! W-when I was in---in the dungeon---I didn't want to see anyone but you! I kept on wishing for you! You just…You just…you just make me feel better than Bakura and Malik do! P-please, Mariku…" Three more thick tears spilled down Ryou's cheek, and he huddled closer to himself, weeping softly into the mattress. "P-Please…don't…don't go…"

"I still don't understand," Marik said bluntly. "How can anyone still wish for me to be here, after what I've done? I'm sure Malik will be pleased to see the back of me when I walk out of here. I'm sure Isis will too. And Bakura. Not that I care what that idiot thief thinks…and yet, you still want me to stay!" He narrowed his eyes at Ryou. "Why are you doing this?"

Sobbing softly, Ryou shook his head. He curled further into his ball, his little frame shaking beneath the already slightly moist sheets.

"I…I…I still….I still…"

"You don't love me," Marik said flatly, before he could stop himself. "I know you don't. No one can love me after what I've done to you. In fact, no one can love me at all. So if you do say that, I can assure you that I won't believe you. And even if you do actually love me, I would never accept it. Love is for weaklings."

Sniffling, Ryou gave another choked sob, nodding weakly against the mattress.

"I-…I know…." He hiccupped again, rivulets of salty tears streaming down his cheeks. His lungs leapt again and burned. "…Bakura…. Bakura-sama told me that…"

Snarling, Marik turned back around. Squeaking fearfully, Ryou curled further back into his ball, sobbing miserably into his hands. As Marik continued to stare ahead of him, his face sharply set and his narrowed eyes flashing, Ryou's quiet sobs floated to his ears, and slowly began to drown his heart.

Dammit…

"No…it's true," Marik said, in a stiff voice. "…Even if you do ever admit you love me, I don't think I could ever accept it. You did something terrible that night you went to Bakura's, Ryou. I don't think I could ever possibly accept your love or anything else ever again."

Another sob escaped through Ryou's lips, and the white-haired boy fell limp against the bed again in defeated despair. A pale, shivering hand found its way up to Ryou's throat, and out of the corner of his eye, Marik watched in confusion as he watched the other sob and cry miserably, his hand constantly clutching at his throat. The other hand seemed to be rubbing his ring finger harshly, as though desperate to wash it off, or put something on…

Sighing, Marik stood up, and began to walk towards the door.

Gasping, Ryou immediately shot open his eyes, his pupils shrinking in horror as he watched Marik approach the door. With all the strength he could muster, Ryou scrambled off the bed, and flew onto his feet.

A second later, his calves shattered beneath him. With a pained cry, Ryou collapsed to the ground, his naked body clad only in bloody bandages, his legs throbbing painfully. Fire shot up his spine and scorched his backside, and a thousand needles stabbed themselves into his ankles. The pain…pain…!

A moment later, strong arms wrapped themselves around his torso, and lifted him up. Sobbing desperately, Ryou instantly wound his arms around Marik's neck, sobbing hard into the other's shoulder. With an exasperated sigh, Marik swept the other up, and began walking towards the bed again.

"I swear, you're a total idiot," Marik muttered. "You just got healed! Even Isis had enough trouble trying to heal your legs! They're not strong yet, Ryou! By the gods…I don't know what to do with you…"

"Stay with me," Ryou pleaded. "P-please…please stay with me. I don't..I can't..I can't do this alone, Mariku…please…please stay with me! We'll do whatever you want! We…we can…we can…"

"You really actually want me to stay?" Marik asked stiffly. Coughing, Ryou nodded.

"I…I want you to…p-please…please…"

"Stop begging," Marik snapped. "All I asked for was a simple yes or no. You don't have to go on pleading about it with me. Idiot." And with that, he threw Ryou back onto the bed, and turned around again. However, this time, he merely stayed foot, his heartstrings tugging lightly.

Internally, Marik sighed. Great…this hadn't gone the way he had hoped. It was strange…away from Ryou, his heart yearned for the other; to hold, to comfort, to care and adore…and yet, when he was with Ryou, he could never seem to express that properly. His pride would grow too anxious around Ryou's presence…forcing Marik to do things he hadn't intended…

_Great_, Marik thought dryly. _Someone's going to tell me I need anger counseling._

The conscience poked him.

_You need anger counseling._

Sighing, Marik clenched his fists. Ryou…Ryou had wanted for him…Ryou had wished for him…but it was so obvious Ryou still feared him…so why was he still wishing for Marik to be by his side?

_Because he loves---_

Abruptly, Marik shook his head. No. NO. Ryou did NOT love him. Ryou did NOT love him. He did NOT love Ryou back. None. Not at all. Zip. Love was for weaklings.

And yet, some part of Marik felt agony about such a suggestion…could Ryou still be in love with him? Even though it was possible, Marik couldn't even dare to comprehend how he could accept it. For one, he would have to get over his pride, and two, he could never accept Ryou's love. No…not after what he had done. He had not proved himself worthy of Ryou's love….

He took another deep breath, and steadied himself.

"You…really want me to stay?"

Hiccupping weakly, Ryou nodded. A barely audible "yes" slipped from his lips, floating softly into Marik's ears. With a sigh, Marik wearily put a hand to his forehead, and closed his eyes.

"Fine then," he said lowly. "If you want, we could even have a talking time every day or something…you need your rest, so you can't talk all the time…Maybe if I wake you up once in a while every day, we can use that time to talk over things. Is that good for you?"

Ryou nodded hastily, watching Marik with big, tearful brown eyes. Marik sighed again.

"Don't expect much of me," Marik warned. "In fact, I might not even be here with you. You can't expect me to always stay by your side and hold your hand. That's for pure, utter weaklings. You got that?"

Whimpering, Ryou nodded again. His heart swelled painfully at the idea of Marik leaving him at all, but it also leapt slightly in anticipation of Marik's proposal. A Talking Time! Maybe they could do something special during each Taking Time! Read a book, talk about the universe, listen to music…just like on the blimp…!

"Go sleep," Marik snarled bluntly. "I have work to do. I have other things to do than to worry about you. You still disobeyed me, you know. I told you stay here with me. If you hadn't gone off and tried to find Bakura, you would never be like you are now. So all this is your fault, anyways." Huffing, Marik snapped around, and gave Ryou a glare. "Goodnight," he said dully, and stalked towards the doors.

Whimpering, Ryou whined softly, more tears leaking from his eyes as he watched Marik depart from the room. Swallowing deeply, the former Light attempted to snuggle back down into his sheets, still thankful that at least he had a bed to sleep in. Even though he was still in uttermost agony, Ryou couldn't help but feel slightly relieved. Marik…Marik said he was going to visit him…he said he was…

But it was Marik's constant presence that kept Ryou from his nightmares, not his occasional ones. So that night, when Ryou finally fell asleep, his dreams will filled with twisted insanity and distortion and pain…hours and hours of replay of what had happened in the last few days, over and over and over…Marik yelling at him…Marik hating him…Marik saying that he would never come back and never visit him again…

…Ryou slept miserably that night.

* * *

But even after Ryou had fallen asleep…even after he had lived through his nightmares and sobbed his soul empty…In the darkest hours of the night, the tall, built silhouette of Marik had crept into the room. His shadow had found its way next to Ryou's bed, and deep lavender eyes had analyzed him with guilt and mourning. No traces of darkness or Shadows seemed present. In fact, the room was empty and silent, except for Ryou's pained, subconscious cries, and Marik's soft, quiet sighs.

And in the privacy of the late night and early morn, Marik had sat himself down next to his lover. His hand had floated hesitantly over the tortured boy's own, while the other shivered tentatively over Ryou's sweating forehead. And just before the last candled died, Marik had grasped Ryou's hand, and began stroking his hair.

In fact, the tall shadow had even bent over Ryou's ear, his lips whispering words nearly unfamiliar with age.

"…I'm sorry, my little thief."

And unbeknownst to Ryou's consciousness, Marik had sat next to him all the long, painful night, holding his hand and stroking his hair.


	21. Stupid

Chapter Twenty-One: Stupid

A few days, life passed smoothly. At first, Marik would only occasionally come and visit Ryou each day, stopping by purely just to keep his promise of a "Talking Time", before leaving abruptly. Eventually, as the next few days wore out and became stretched into a week, Marik came by more frequently, stayed longer, and even occasionally came with Ryou's breakfast, or lunch, or dinner.

However, despite his longer presences and extended acquaintances, Marik's attitude towards Ryou did not seem to faze very much. He was still short and still hard, but sometimes, when Ryou would wake up from slumber to see Marik walking through the door, a faint smile could be seen on Marik's face, but only for a second.

Yet, slowly but surely, Marik's heart was attaching itself to Ryou again, without either of them knowing.

One morning, Marik came walking down Ryou's hallway, not thinking about anything in particular. His mood was rather high…or at least, high for him, because he wasn't committing a homicide with vigor.

_I wonder how he's doing…_Marik thought to himself rather suddenly. It was the first time in a while that he had pondered that question; before he would always stifle it down with the Shadows within him. However today, the thought just occurred to him rather naturally, as though there was nothing wrong with worrying over someone kind, gentle and pure.

Shrugging off-handedly, Marik turned towards the door. Ryou had seemed to be getting better lately. If it weren't for the former Light's stupid nightmares, perhaps he would've been fully healed by now…

Marik opened the door.

Sitting in his bed, propped up by large pillows, sat his Ryou. Though unblemished by bruises and cuts and looking a bit more robust, Ryou's cheeks were still flushing with fever. His legs were still extremely weak from their injuries, forcing the white-haired boy to remain in bed all day and night.

Every second day, Marik would attempt to help Ryou walk again. However, the lessons seemed futile in the short run. Ryou's legs were far too weak and most surely damaged. At some point, Marik feared-worried---_thought_---about how Ryou was never going to walk properly again. Ryou seemed to never be fazed by this prospect, however…at least, not in front of Marik. In the times when they did spend time together, Marik had noticed how Ryou had already seemed to accept his fate; merely sitting in the bed quietly and smiling softly.

And indeed, Ryou was sitting that way again; his eyes softly looking down at the piece of silk he was stitching, his cheeks flushed modestly from his fever, his quiet smile hesitant and small…

However, today, someone else was sitting next to Ryou, instead of Marik. In fact, _two _people were sitting next to Ryou…Malik on the bed, and Bakura leaning against the wall, next to Marik's seat. A basket overflowing with the finest rolls of silk and bundled rolls of yarn sat next to Ryou's lap, its handle wrapped with a large, lavender ribbon. A small roll of parchment paper was stuck onto the ribbon, bearing the hieroglyphics and Japanese characters, _GET WELL SOON!_

At the sound of the door opening, Ryou looked up, and immediately, a large smile graced his flushed features. His tired eyes twinkled and brightened simultaneously along with his smile.

"Marik!"

Arching their eyebrows, both Malik and Bakura turned their heads towards Marik. The Thief King's eyes were still hard and hateful, and without another word, Bakura turned back to watching Ryou stitch away. However, Malik continued to stare at Marik with wide, unreadable eyes.

Marik narrowed his eyes warily. "What is going on here?"

Cocking his head curiously, Ryou smiled brightly. "Bakura-sama and Malik brought me a present, that's all! See, Mariku?" With a gleeful, enthusiastic squeal, Ryou picked up the basket of yarn and silk and sat it on the side of the bed, showing it to Marik. "See? It has yarn, and it has silk…oh, Marik, such beautiful silk! And they also got me lots of needles and pins and lots of buttons and even some wood at the bottom…!"

"I don't give a damn at what they gave you," Marik snapped coldly. He narrowed his eyes hatefully at Malik. "What are you doing here, Light?"

"Visiting Ryou," Malik said bravely. He gave Marik and equally hard stare. "Something wrong with that?"

Again, Marik merely gave the other a sharp glare, before turning to Bakura.

"You! I thought I told you get out of here already!"

"You never told me that," Bakura said coolly, not even looking back to address Marik. The white-haired thief pointed to the silk in Ryou's hands. "You're missing a stitch there, hikari…"

"What? Oh!" Ryou hastily returned back to his piece of silk, carefully picking out his mistaken stitch with the needle. "Thank you, Bakura-sama…"

Bakura merely grunted in response, but remained watching Ryou stitch. Malik finally turned away from his glare on Marik, and crawled over to Ryou's side, giving the sick boy a large hug.

"Do you like the present, Ryou-chan?" Malik grinned, hugging Ryou tightly. Laughing softly, Ryou nodded, his cheeks turning a deeper shade of red from his blushing.

"Yes, Malik," Ryou replied. "Thank you."

"We went through a lot of trouble getting it for you," Malik grinned. "Buying the yarn was no problem, but Bakura really wanted to go raid another tomb, so we got all the silk from some dead pharaoh's chambers…"

Jumping, Ryou abruptly dropped the piece of silk. "Malik!" he cried, as Malik burst out into laughter and rolled onto his back on the bed. Bakura lips twitched.

"Don't worry, hikari, it's never been used," Bakura grinned off-handedly. "Pure silk, never worn, never going to be. If I hadn't stolen it, it would've been just sitting there, collecting dust."

"You raided a pharaoh's TOMB?" Marik snapped spitingly, irritated that he was being ignored. "What's the matter with you?"

"Aw, does little Mariku still believe that Ra will grant the pharaohs a good afterlife?" Bakura mocked, still not turning around to face Marik. "Che, what an idiot…"

"Bakura," Malik sighed, shaking his head. "I know you don't believe in Ra…"

"Of course I don't believe in Ra," Bakura said shortly. "Nor do I believe in Osiris, Ammut, Sekhmet, Nut…"

"It's pronounced 'nuut'," Malik corrected cheerfully. "Nuuuuuuuut."

Bakura gave the other a feral grin. "What about your nuuuuuuuut?"  
"Bakura-sama, Malik-kun," Ryou sighed. "Please stop." With a smile, Ryou turned towards Marik, and held out his hand. "Marikuu…!"

"I'm not joining you if those two are here," Marik said harshly. A look of disappointment and hurt crossed over Ryou's face, and his hand dropped sadly. Sighing softly, Malik looked forth between Marik standing in the doorway, and Ryou looking dejectedly at his lap. Reaching over, Malik tugged softly on Bakura's coat.

"Baku…" Malik whispered softly. "Let's go home."

Bakura arched a pale eyebrow. "What?" he asked loudly.

Malik shook his head and sighed. "Bakura, come on, let's go home…"

"I'm not letting Marik drive us out, if that's what you mean," Bakura stated bluntly and loudly, not caring that Marik was standing right in clear earshot. "You wanted to see Ryou, so I got you to see Ryou. You wanted to give Ryou a present, so I helped you get Ryou a present. And you wanted to talk to Ryou, so go on and talk. I'm not letting Marik screw this up for you."

"Bakura…" Malik and Ryou sighed softly at the same time. Bakura shrugged.

"Why?" he asked at the top of his voice. "You shouldn't let him push you, you know…he's just a thick-headed, arrogant, cocky, perverted, slimy, empty-skulled, hollow-headed Shadow Master…"

"GET OUT."

In a blink of an eye, Marik had stridden in front of Bakura, and slammed the other away from the bed and towards the door. Hissing, Bakura waved his arms and immediately regained his balance and maintained his foot.

"Ooh, I think I hit a nerve," he smiled conversationally. "I'm sorry, did you hear us speaking?"

"Get out," Marik snarled. He whipped around and bent over Ryou, grabbing Malik's collar and promptly throwing the other over his shoulder and out the bed. "GET OUT!"

With a cry, Malik landed hard onto the ground, skidding on his shoulder. With a roar, Bakura pelted forwards, bringing his fist up to Marik's face. With angry grace, Marik swiftly pulled out a long dagger, and almost slit Bakura's wrist, snagging onto one of the tomb raider's many stolen bracelets.

A flash of cunning flicked through Bakura's eyes. With a swift twist of his wrist, the bracelet snagged firmly on the point of Marik's dagger. For a moment, both pulled back, but before anyone can do anything about it, Bakura yanked his arm back, and Marik's dagger came soaring through.

However, that was not the thing that prevented Marik from strangling Bakura on the spot. In fact, even the dagger hadn't been the object of interruption. If anything, the two former Yamis were not slitting each other's throat because both Lights had their arms wound around each waist.

"Bakura, don't do this!" Malik whined. He clamped his arms harder around Bakura's waist. "Bakuraaaa…."

"Mariku, please don't fight," Ryou pleaded. His thin, frail arms were also entwined around Marik's waist, his hot face pressing tightly against Marik's back. His eyes were squeezed shut, and his voice was pleading. "Please, Mariku, don't fight with Bakura-sama…"

"Then he's going," Marik snapped. "If he's not going, then I'm leaving."

"Fine!" Bakura snapped back. He wrenched Malik's arms away from him and grabbed one of Malik's hands. "Come on, Malik. We're going." With a jerk on Malik's hand, Bakura stormed out of the room, Malik behind him. With a snarl, Marik promptly grabbed the basket of yarn and silk from Ryou's bed, and threw it after Bakura. The basket hit the thief square in the back, though it hardly did any damage. In fact, it only angered Bakura more.

"DAMN YOU!" he bellowed behind him.

"DAMN YOU TOO!" Marik bellowed back. "NEVER STEP FOOT IN HERE AGAIN, DO YOU UNDERSTAND!"

"LIKE I'D WANT TO!" Bakura yelled back. "WHO'D WANT TO STAY WITH YOUR SNIVELLING SICK ATTITUDE ANYWAY!"

"WHO'S THE ONE IN THIS BED HERE!" Marik yelled back. Bakura laughed coldly.

"HE'S ONLY THERE CAUSE YOU KEEP HIIM THERE!" the thief laughed. "LIKE A LITTLE PRISONER! JUST FOR YOUR LITTLE MASTER/SLAVE FETISH!"

"KEEP YOUR LOWLY MOUTH SHUT!" Marik bellowed. With everything he had, he hurled the fallen dagger after Bakura. Thankfully, Bakura had just shut the door, so the dagger merely impaled itself against the wood with a loud _thud._

Panting, Marik stared at the door for a while. The sound of Bakura's laughter echoed in his ears, and snarling, he whipped back around, and struck Ryou across the face. With a cry, Ryou released his hold on Marik, and fell back against the mattress.

"What the hell was HE doing here!" Marik yelled at Ryou. Whimpering, Ryou curled into a ball, his entire frame quivering again. "I thought I told you to never see him again!"

"B-But…I didn't know Bakura-sama was coming too," Ryou stuttered, his face growing redder and redder. "I o-only thought that Malik-kun was coming, not Bakura-sama…and I couldn't tell them to go away, I didn't know…"

"You don't know anything," Marik snapped. "You didn't know how to keep your mouth shut when you were blabbering with Bakura. You didn't know how to stop him when he wanted to bandage your wounds. You didn't know how to avoid yourself getting caught by the guards. DAMMIT, what do I have to do to you get to things through your stupid skull!"

With another snarl, Marik backhanded Ryou again, this time on the other side. Crying out, Ryou uncurled form his ball, tears streaming down his cheeks. Marik snarled again.

"I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU NOT TO CRY!"

"I---I---I'm sorry," Ryou sobbed. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't know, I'm sorry, please don't be mad, Mariku, please don't be mad…"

"Don't call me that," Marik snarled. "I hate it when you call me that."

Sniffling, Ryou gave a small whine, his eyes shutting tightly. His frame quivered again, and he slowly curled back into a ball.

"I---I…I'm s-sorry," he wept. "I'm sorry…I didn't know…I'll tell them not to come next time, I'll tell them I can't see them next time…I'm sorry, I'm sorry I'm sorry…"

Snarling, Marik whipped around again. Stalking towards the basket, he grabbed its handle and seized the fallen rolls of silk and yarn, and stuffed them back into the basket.

"Look at this," Marik sneered spitefully. "What is all this? Just some yarn, some silk, nothing of any importance! You succumbed to THIS?"

"I-I…I'm sorry, Marik," Ryou whimpered. "I…they…I l-like making things…that's w-why…B-Bakura-sama and Malik-kun both knew, s-so…"

"Are you implying that I don't?" Marik hissed dangerously. Squeaking fearfully, Ryou shook his head frantically. Marik's eye twitched and he turned away. "Fine. Then you won't be needing this piece of crap then." He hurled the basket through the door and disappeared through it. "I'm throwing this out. See you."

And with that, the door shut.

* * *

_Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid…DAMN THAT THIEF!_

For a while, that had been Marik's rant, as he stormed his way through the halls of the labyrinth. Despite how large and winding and grand the maze was, he still could not find some place to get rid of the thing. He wish he could just throw it in a fire, but there was none at the moment.

_I could just set up a bonfire right now,_ Marik thought, glancing at a nearby oil lamp. _Or maybe I could do that later…maybe when Bakura's around…yes, that's a good idea. Burn Bakura, then kill Malik…then they can't give Ryou stupid presents anymore…_

His conscience probed him again, this time slightly angrily.

_You're jealous again, Mariku!_

"No I'm NOT!" Marik suddenly said out loud. "I am NOT jealous!"

_So Bakura and Malik gave Ryou a get-well present before you could, _the conscience snapped. _You just HAD to hit Ryou…again! You just HAD to take away his present! You just HAD to drive his friends of! Good grief, what are you, a grief-bringer? I'm surprised you're not wearing this big black cloak and holding a scythe!_

"SHUT UP."

With all his might, Marik hurtled the basket into the floor, his eyes squeezed shut. "Shut up shut up shut up shut up…!"

_Don't be such a baby,_ the conscience scolded. _You're just jealous Bakura and Malik got Ryou a present before you. Well suck it up! At least they actually TELL Ryou they care for him…not like you…_

"I can't say it yet," Marik snarled. "You know I can't.  
_Of course you can't, Mariku. But don't blame RYOU for something YOU can't do. Now go give him back his present! _

"Never," Marik snapped. "NEVER!"

_You're making such a big deal out of a stupid little basket…come on, it's his present, you have no right to just take it away from him like that….and he didn't even put up much of a fight. And yet you SLAPPED HIM!_

"I didn't MEAN TO!" Marik yelled to his head. "It's his fault! He shouldn't have let Bakura come in! He KNEW not to…"

_No he DIDN'T!_ the conscience yelled back. _How else can Ryou stop him, huh? Look at him! He's weak! He's tired! He can barely stand, much less tell Bakura to get out of there! Even Malik couldn't get Bakura out of there! You're just being jealous and stupid again…_

"I need to sleep," Marik said abruptly. He quickly ran down the hallway, and promptly ended up in front of his own bedroom door. "Leave me alone. I'm going to sleep." With that, Marik tossed the basket behind him, entered his room, and shut the door. With a furious amount of Shadows, he stifled his conscience and slid into bed.

_I don't need him…I don't need him…_

Shaking his head furiously, Marik shut his eyes, and forcefully blocked out his conscience. Slowly, he slid to sleep.

* * *

_Darkness._

_Not again._

_Groaning, Marik stirred, attempting to get up. Darkness…darkness again…this was getting ridiculous…_

_A soft giggle laughed next to him, and he looked up. Staring down at him was the most adorable angel he could have possibly imagined…round, childish face and colossal, adorable brown eyes…white hair curled and framed the smooth, rounded cheeks and splayed across the small shoulders._

_It took a while for Marik to realize that he was staring at a child Ryou._

Shaking his head abruptly, Marik got to his knees. It then occurred to him that he was no longer wearing his usual attire of black, but rather, a simple tunic. And what was worse, he wasn't big, bad, pharaoh master Marik anymore. If anything, he looked like Ryou's current age.

_By the gods, he had turned into a child!_

_Startled, Marik shot to his feet and stared down at him. Yes, it was true! Horridly true! Small, pudgy brown hands stared back him, devoid and bare of golden accessories. He quickly felt his hair. Still high, but his hair was shorter than before. His face was a bit rounder, and his eyes a bit bigger…_

_Giggling, Ryou looked up at Marik, his eyes big and wide and cheerful. With a small squeal, Ryou poked Marik in the nose. Shaking his head again, Marik jolted up, and stared at Ryou accusingly._

_"What was that for?" he snapped. At first, Ryou looked taken aback at Marik's outburst, but hesitantly replied with a smile anyways._

_"Mnh," Ryou replied. Marik narrowed his eyes and glared at the other._

_"Can you not speak?" Marik snapped. Ryou's eyes widened fearfully again, but he tried to compose himself. A small blush crept across Ryou's nose. He pointed to himself and said, "Ryou."_

_"Yes, I know that," Marik growled. He poked Ryou harshly in the stomach. "How old are you?"_

_Grinning, Ryou held up two fingers. Marik nearly fainted._

_"YOU'RE TWO YEARS OLD!"_

_Startled by Marik's outburst, Ryou toppled back a bit, landing on his bottom. Now that Marik was taller than Ryou, he could now analyze the other more carefully. Obviously quite small, perhaps really only two, little Ryou was clad in one long, linen robe. It seemed too big for him, so the sleeves were rolled up as well as the bottom hemming. _

_Whimpering softly, Ryou's childish face grimaced, his little hand rubbing his bottom. His bottom lip began to tremble._

_"Don't cry," Marik snapped. "Crying is for babies."_

_Whimpering softly, the other looked up, his large eyes swelling with tears. He gave Marik a painfully pleading gaze, before sucking a deep breath, and controlling his tears. _

_"That's better." Crossing his arms, Marik looked about. "Where the heck are we?"_

_Ryou cocked his head to the side, and gave a shrug. Marik scowled._

_"Do you know anything?" he snapped._

_Again, Ryou's large eyes widened even bigger, welling with tears again. Marik sighed exasperatedly._

_"Don't cry!" he yelled. "It's not going to do any good!"_

_Whimpering, Ryou looked away, his pleading eyes searching the dark abyss. His bottom lip trembled as his eyes seemed to be unable to find what they were looking for, and fearfully, he stared back down at his feet._

_"Mummy…"_

_"For Ra's sake, I'm not your mommy!" Marik snapped. A sudden realization struck him. "You…you lost your mother?" he asked._

_Whining quietly, Ryou crawled forwards onto his hands and knees, before standing up wobbly. When he managed his footing, he looked around him again, his eyes threatening to spill the tears he was trying desperately to hold back._

_"Mummy…mummy…?"_

_Frowning slightly, Marik reached out with his hand, and gently laid it on Ryou's shoulder. With a gasp, Ryou gave a start, before turning his big childish eyes back upon Marik. Marik, however, merely narrowed his own._

_"So you lost your mother. Is that it?"_

_Sniffing, Ryou nodded weakly. "Mummy…Amane…"_

_"Your sister?" Marik said firmly. It was more statement then question. He turned away, thinking. "Well, haven't seen them, so don't ask me. I don't even know where we are." He turned back to gaze sharply at Ryou. "And don't start crying again. You'll find them. I know you will."_

_Whimpering, Ryou nodded weakly. He glanced at Marik for a while. Marik scowled._

_"What are you looking at me for?"_

_Startled, Ryou jumped a bit. Nervously twiddling his thumbs, he casted his large eyes downwards, a soft pink blushing across his face.Marik sighed exasperatedly._

_"What's the matter with you?"_

_Whimpering, Ryou clutched his fingers, and squeezing his eyes, he took a step towards Marik._

_But the step didn't last long._

_With a small cry, Ryou's knees buckled beneath him, sending him crashing onto the floor. The linen tunic draped upon him rose and swelled about him, deflating flatly against the ground. _

_With an alarmed 'ack!' Marik rushed forwards, and quickly scooped Ryou up by his arms. Weakly, the two-year-old gripped the other tightly, burying his whimpering face into Marik's chest._

_"What's the matter with you!" Marik cried in alarm. He roughly pulled Ryou back to his feet, grasping both shoulders. "What is the matter with you? Can't you even walk?"_

_A tiny whimper escaped Ryou's lips, and he hesitantly shook his head. Gripping Marik tightly, he buried his face deeper into Marik's chest, a soft, fearful whine floating from his throat. Hot droplets of tears sank into Marik's skin._

_"What is the matter with you?" Marik asked exasperatedly. "You can't even walk, you can barely talk, and you've lost your mother and sister! Good grief, what are you?"_

_Whimpering, Ryou clutched closer to Marik, his childish ball shivering slightly with tiny sobs._

_"L-lone…lonely…"_

_Rolling his eyes, Marik shook his head. "Good grief, is that all you can feel? Loneliness? Forget it! I'm not staying in this hell pit holding your hand. Get a life!"_

_"B-Bakura…Bakura-sama!" Ryou cried out fearfully. 'Baku-…Bakura….Mommy…mommy…mommy…"_

_"For gods sake, I'm not your…!"_

* * *

Marik jolted awake.

Shaking his head furiously, he hastily sat up.

…What the hell?  
Again, Marik shook his head, this time, holding a hand up to his forehead. By the gods, what the bloody hell was that?

_Stupid dreams_, Marik muttered to himself. By the gods, what was going on with him? Stupid stupid soft, lovey dovey dream…

…

…stupid stupid squirmy, guilty writhing insides…

…

Cursing, Marik abruptly got up. Stomping over to the door, he threw it open, and for a moment, stared at the basket of yarn that laid overturned next to it.

….

Cursing, Marik promptly snatched up the basket and its contents, and slammed out the door.

…

_Stupid stupid filthy conscience…_

Just when he was about to drift off to sleep, Ryou was rudely awakened by the loud SLAM of his door. Well…to say that he was 'rudely awakened' would be a euphemism…needless to say, the SLAM of the door had shocked the living daylights out of the Light, especially after experiencing new blows from Marik.

Crying out in start, Ryou's eyes shot open and looked fearfully towards the door. Standing in its way was Marik, his eyes narrowed so lowly that they were slits, and in his hand gripped the handle of the basket. Whimpering softly, Ryou hunched a bit into a ball again beneath his covers, his eyes shut tight, fearfully awaiting what could be Marik's wrath.

Growling, Marik stared piercingly at Ryou for a moment, his hand shaking.

_Dammit, he's crying again, I bet,_ Marik thought darkly to himself. _I thought I told him not to cry…._

His conscience smirked and prodded him painfully.

_And WHO made Little Ryou cry, hmn?_

Hissing, Marik furiously shook his head, and promptly stalked to the side of the bed. It was rather strange, to be truthful. He had absolutely no clue as to why he was going back to Ryou at all…was it just his heart that was controlling him?

_I don't have a heart,_ Marik thought brusquely. With an unnecessarily hard _wham_, he slammed the basket down onto Ryou's bed, and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Here," Marik snapped roughly. "Take it, if you won't shut up about it." When Ryou didn't do anything, Marik narrowed his eyes, and sharply smacked Ryou about the head. "For Ra's sake, get out from there!"

Trembling, Ryou weakly peeked out from underneath his blankets, his mind throbbing slightly from Marik's smack. Teary brown eyes traveled uneasily from Marik's tall, towering shadow, to the slightly bruised basket on the bed. Ryou blinked unsurely.

Marik…was…giving it back?

Growling, Marik ran a hand through his hair, and shoved the basket into Ryou's lap.

"There, take it," Marik snapped. "Obviously you want it that badly, so take it." Huffing, Marik turned away, and scowled at the wall. "Take you stupid damn gift…"

Blinking unsurely, Ryou looked at the basket. It was unlike Marik to give something back, especially if it was once touched by Bakura. Nervously, Ryou's insides writhed. He didn't want to upset Marik any longer…he didn't like upsetting Marik at all…what if Marik left him? What if Marik eventually got fed up with him? He didn't want to upset Marik any more…

As much as he loved the basket of yarn and silk, he loved Marik more, and casting his eyes down, Ryou shook his head, and put the basket onto the floor next to him. Immediately, Marik spun around and stared at Ryou dangerously.

"What are you doing?" Marik snarled. Ryou whimpered softly and scooted back, still staring at his lap.

"I…I…don't want it," Ryou whispered lamely. Marik's left eye twitched.

"Excuse me?" Marik asked, dangerously soft. Swallowing, Ryou rubbed his arms, still not daring to look up at Marik.

"I…don't want it," Ryou repeated again meekly. "Not if…not if it makes you…this unhappy…I don't…" Ryou took a deep breath. "I don't want it," he lied.

Marik's eyes widened fractionally for an instant, before they narrowed again. With a suspicious look on his face, he advanced upon Ryou, and promptly grabbed Ryou's chin, forcing the other to look straight into his eyes. With a small yelp, Ryou obeyed, his large, doe-brown eyes twinkling with fear and apprehension. Both cheeks were turning slightly purple from the force of Marik's blows.

_Please don't hurt me…_

Again, Marik's eye twitched.

"And _why_ don't you want it?" he hissed suspiciously. "Surely something like this from your precious _Bakura-sama_ would make you happy, wouldn't it?"

Shivering, Ryou shook his head and closed his eyes. "…N-no…I…I don't want it…if…if it makes you…" Gulping, Ryou opened his eyes again, shying weakly away from Marik was possible. "If it makes you…so unhappy…"

Snarling, Marik harshly released Ryou's chin, and turned around. Scowling, he picked up the basket and thrust it into Ryou's arms, his amethyst eyes flashing.

"Take it," Marik snapped. "I know you like it. There would be no point in you giving up something you like just to make me happy. Personally, I don't give a crap."

Weakly, Ryou gripped the handle hesitantly, unsure of what to say.

"You….you sure..Mariku—I-I mean, Marik…sama…?"

"Don't call me that either," Marik snapped suddenly, before he could control himself. Squeaking, Ryou scooted back into his corner, looking at Marik fearfully.

"A-Alright….M-master…?"

Growling in exasperation, Marik shook his head and grabbed the basket.

"Whatever," Marik muttered. "Stop looking at me like that, will you? It pisses me off so much." Looking at the basket with distaste, he wrinkled his nose and picked up a ball of yarn gingerly. "What the hell do you do with this, anyway?" he asked with distaste, as he watched the ball of yarn unravel onto the ground, trailing by a string from his fingers. Smiling weakly, Ryou hesitantly shifted forwards and tangled the thread between his soft fingers.

"It…you can make…lots of things with it," Ryou explained shyly. He expertly wound the string around his fingers, quickly retrieving the ball of yarn back into his hands. "…I…like making…little clothes, and knitting or crocheting is really easy, because you don't need much yarn or anything…I could…" At this, Ryou looked up at Marik shyly, and blushed softly. "…I could…make you something…if you want."

Unable to help himself, Marik arched an eyebrow. He had just…yelled at Ryou, inexcusably beaten Ryou, and yet, Ryou was willing to make him something as a present? For a while, Marik could only stare incredulously into Ryou's face, flushing bright red with fever and purple from his bruises. A heartstring tugged mournfully.

Uneasy with Marik's unreadable gaze, Ryou averted his eyes back to the basket, his insides writhing. Did he upset Marik again? Swallowing nervously, Ryou shuffled through the basket, and retrieved the little doll that was hidden beneath.

The little plushie was simple; barely the size of Ryou's hand, and limp from use. Little black-button eyes looked up at Ryou, beneath a short bob of white hair. Smiling sadly, Ryou gently soothed over the red dress of Amane's doll, currently forgetting that Marik was still watching him.

"Did you…make that?" Marik asked abruptly, staring at the doll in Ryou's hands. With a start, Ryou hastily clutched the doll in his hand, and looked up at Marik fearfully. A spark of understanding flickered through Ryou's eyes, and the other relaxed slightly, looking back down at the doll in his hands.

"Ah…yes…" Ryou blushed softly. "When I was…six…or almost seven…I think…" Blushing brightly, Ryou turned away, and gently laid the doll back among the midst of silk and yarn. "I've been using that as an example lately," Ryou explained, side-stepping around any mention that might indicate his lost sister, "…I haven't made plushies…for a while now…" Again, Ryou blushed, and looked up at Marik hesitantly. "I'm really girly, I know…"

Again, Marik didn't say anything. Instead, the other merely continued to look at Ryou with a strange look in his eyes, making Ryou feel even more uncomfortable. Was he doing anything wrong?

Laughing weakly, Ryou dug around the basket a bit, and found another plushie doll. This one, however, was unfinished, and was merely a pale, naked ginger-bread-looking-man, needing features desperately. A stitch was trailing from its hips, where little stuffing was poking out.

"See? This…this is where…you make the stitch," Ryou explained weakly, showing Marik the stitch. "And…well…after you cut it out, and sew it together, you leave a hole, flip it around, and then start stuffing the doll…" Again, Ryou found himself blushing hotly. "I could…make one…for you….if you want…"

"It was your sister, wasn't it?" Marik suddenly said. Startlred, Ryou dropped the unfinished doll, and looked up at Marik with frightened eyes. Swallowing, Ryou nodded, and tears filled his eyes.

"Yes…" he whispered. "It…I…made it for Amane…for her first …" At this thought, Ryou's eyes drifted away from Marik, and a single tear made its way down Ryou's cheek. "…birthday.."

Blinking once, Marik frowned slightly. A small, serene emotion swept through his heart at the sight of seeing Ryou mourning over the loss of his beloved sister…and once again, Marik's insides writhed when he remembered just how cruel he had brushed away the idea of Ryou's sibling…

_Please stop crying,_ Marik's conscience whined softly. _Please stop crying…I'm here…you can teach me how to make dolls too…I want to make you feel happy….! Please stop crying…_

Rolling his eyes, Marik sat himself on the bed. Grabbing the basket, he searched around in it, giving himself an excuse to do something with his hands.

"Get a grip," he muttered. "Your sister is dead now, Ryou. It's been nearly ten years, so forget about it." Grumbling under his breath, Marik held a needle in one hand awkwardly, while the other found the unfinished doll. "How the bloody hell do you do this anyway…"

Sniffling softly, Ryou watched from the corner of his eye as Marik struggled to find a way to fathom how to do something so…human. Something so…mortal. Something so…common. A smile almost spread on Ryou's face. Seeing Marik attempting to figure out how to do something so common looked just too cute for Ryou. In fact, if it wasn't for Marik's scowl, the Egyptian almost looked like a pouting child who had no idea what to do.

Smiling weakly, Ryou shuffled slowly towards Marik's side, in case Marik didn't want to be near him. When Marik did not respond, or did not seem to notice, Ryou sat himself next to Marik, and gently laid a hand on the one that was holding the needle.

Startled, Marik turned to face Ryou, who was smiling softly.

"You hold it like this," Ryou whispered gently. Tenderly, he soothed his fingers over Marik's, slowly shaping the other's hand to properly hold the needle. "And then you…hold the doll like this…"

As Ryou continued to shape Marik to hold the doll and needle properly, Marik could not but help stare at the other with incredulity. In fact, Marik was so surprised, he did not hear Ryou say anything at all. The only things that made itself apparent were Ryou's soft, delicate hands…his smooth, tender cheek, leaning against Marik's shoulder…his warmth that snugly warmed every inch of Marik's skin…

…but most of all, how Ryou's eyes seemed to glow…how even though they were half-lidded with weakness and exhaustion, they were still glowing…still twinkling with that same twinkle Marik saw in Battle City…the same warmth that glowed forth from their touch…

Slowly, Marik felt his hand moving, being guided with Ryou's.

"And you…sew it through…like this…"

_I should be leaving,_ Marik though numbly, still staring at Ryou. _I should be yelling at him, screaming at him…telling him to get away from me, to stop babying me…I should be hitting him, dominating him, telling him to go screw off..._

_…I should be hating him…_

Nevertheless, Marik stayed where he was, his heart enjoying the warmth that he hadn't felt since he came back. Nevertheless, Marik surrendered to Ryou's touch, nodding his head silently as Ryou continued to teach him how to sew. Nevertheless, when Ryou bent forwards to reposition the doll, Marik laid his head on Ryou's shoulder.

Freezing slightly, Ryou slowly turned to look at Marik.

"Mariku…?" Ryou whispered unsurely.

Though his face was hidden by the shadows, Marik smiled. For that one moment, he enjoyed being normal…being mortal…being…

…human.

As Marik watched Ryou nervously regain teaching him how to sew, Marik smiled softly to himself. It wasn't so bad, visiting Ryou so much…it wasn't so bad, occasionally surrendering to Ryou and letting Ryou teach him something so girlish. It wasn't the sewing that caught Marik off, but rather the human feeling itself…the feeling of warmth, compassion, and tender care that he had long forgotten in his quest for darkness.

Plus…as Marik leaned his head on Ryou's shoulder, watching as Ryou continued to ease his hands into formations, Marik smiled.

…He loved it when Ryou called him Mariku.

* * *

AWWWW! KAWAIII!

I just wasted my Chinese homework hours doing that. XD But I liked this chapter. I thought it was very sweet. YES! MARIK IS STARTING TO BECOME NK MARIK AGAIN! WOOT!

Oh, and for those of you who didn't know what was the torture device those guards used on Ryou (since I can't answer reviewers individually, because of this site) what they put Ryou's legs in were actually an old torture device. I read about it in "Hunchback of Notre Dame". What they did was put Ryou's legs in these encasements, with a handle. The more you screw the handle, the tighter the encasements get, eventually nearly breaking Ryou's legs from the pressure. Ryou can still walk, slightly, but he's very weak, and there's going to be a really cute scene coming up with Marik pushing Ryou around in a wooden wheelchair. XD

And yes, I'm going to write a Thief Bakura x Malik lemon soon. It's going to be really heated, cause I got the idea from reading tons of Thief Bakura x Malik doujinshis. I love Thief Bakura!

Oh, btw, I don't think Ryou and Bakura are the same person, in response to one reviewer. (Again, I can't say the name, because this site has banned that). But you asked that why Marik still liked Ryou, if Marik hated Bakura, because Bakura and Ryou were the same person. There are some theories that Bakura and Ryou ARE the same person, and that Ryou was like, Thief King Bakura in ancient Egypt. (At least, that's what Shonen-Jump made it look like…)

But in my opinion, Thief King Bakura is Bakura, and when he died, his soul got trapped in the Ring. Ryou, however, is a separate entity that came across the Ring, not Bakura's reincarnation. Bakura found Ryou and took advantage of Ryou, and that is why Ryou and Bakura are not compatible with one another.

OH yes, and I also have an opinion that Yami Bakura is different from Thief Bakura. Thief Bakura in my mind is more human, and Yami Bakura's just deranged. Ryou is just a human being who accidentally was burdened with Yami Bakura, not actually Yami Bakura's reincarnation. Therefore, Yami Bakura and Ryou are NOT the same person. Hope that cleared things up.


	22. Kiss the Girl

CRUD it's hard to write Marik x Ryou have you've read a Ryou x Bakura WHERE RYOU WAS SEME! O.O x.x

Did I mention Bakura was a girl? XD

Ochodre's genderbending fics ROCK! I love the psychological depth behind each character, and I am in total awe of her works. I've just been reading and rereading her story called Anachronism, which is a sequel to her "Powerless" story. It's excellent! So excellent, you'd probably eventually forget the fact that Bakura is a girl. XD I LOVED IT! The emotion and psychology behind it is breathtaking! GO READ IT! RAWR.

Plus, I love Ryou as being a liiittle seme…he's a CUTE seme! (squeals) Especially at how Ochodre writes him! (dances)

For those who do want to check out Ochodre's fics but are uncomfortable with Bakura as a girl, she has one called "Snow on the Sahara" which is Bakura x Ryou, shounen-ai. Ryou's uke in that one. Both Powerless, Anachronism, and Snow on the Sahara are excellent fics and you guys should check them out!

…

Damn.

Now I don't want to write Marik / Ryou anymore….T.T Now I don't know HOW! (has stupid seme Ryou in her mind.) ACK! NOT HELPING!

Btw, forgive me for using Disney's Little Mermaid song "Kiss the Girl". I either a) have been reading too many genderbending fics, or b) just realized that if Ryou WAS a girl, this would've been a great song to describe what Marik was trying to do. I realize that that has some controversy, but I wanted to weave in a songfic without this site spazzing on me.

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Two: Kiss the Girl

"Here," Marik muttered, shoving a tray of food onto Ryou's lap. "Eat."

Smiling brightly, Ryou turned towards Marik. "Morning, Marik."

Marik grunted. "Morning," he muttered. Turning away, he sat himself down on his usual chair, crossing his arms and scowling at the wall. Used to this expression, Ryou merely looked down at his food---a plate of mashed potatoes, a bowl of soup of cheese and vegetables, and a few slices of bread. He promptly began to eat, making happy, appreciative chewing noises along the way.

Out of the corner of his eye, Marik watched his former lover eat. Even though his heart warmed at the sight of Ryou chewing so happily and eating so eagerly, Marik did not smile, determined to not show his weakness.

_Don't you dare scold me,_ he warned his conscience when he felt a warm prickle. _I'm not doing anything wrong._

It had been another week or so now since Marik had let his guard down. Ever since he had let his guard down that once….felt Ryou's skin, felt Ryou's fingers, felt Ryou's warm breath and most of all, felt the warmth in the other's eyes…Marik couldn't find himself to ignore the other any longer. As the days wore on, Marik came by far more frequently, and stayed with Ryou nearly the whole day. But most impressive of all, was that Marik actually _enjoyed_ his time with Ryou.

A small clatter of forks and spoons echoed in the room as Ryou continued to eat in an enthusiastic manner…Marik always had marveled how it was possible that Ryou could have a bigger appetite than even him. Stupid Light probably picked that one up from Bakura, the Ra-damned cursed thievery pig…

Marik had by far seen Thief Bakura's table manners, and although Malik found them amusing and adorable, Marik just found them disgusting. At least Ryou didn't stuff his mouth full of food…

"Thank you, Mariku," Ryou mumbled, his cheeks rounded fully. He turned towards Marik, his cheeks adorably rounded, his eyes squeezed in an ecstatic manner. With a big gulp, Ryou swallowed his mouthful, and grinned at Marik. "Thank you!" he chirruped.

Rolling his eyes, Marik looked the other way. He never met Ryou's eyes as much as he could help it. "Whatever. Just eat."

Though he was still disappointed with Marik's lack of enthusiasm, Ryou was getting used to Marik's more somber, depressing nature. Smiling sadly, he gave a nod, and returned to eating his food, thinking deeply. Marik…did he still hate him? Perhaps not…after all…Marik had been visiting him so often….so often…at this thought, Ryou brightened up, despite the fact that his heart was still heavy with guilt. His nightmares had returned again…darkened nights filled with blood and pain and gore…the captain's cunning face kept on haunting him…haunting him…

Ryou shoved down a shiver of fear. That was one face he was never going to forget.

"Cold?" Marik asked shortly. Startled, Ryou turned to look at Marik, his eyes confused.

"Cold? No, no, I'm fine," Ryou smiled. Taking a deep breath, the white-haired boy leaned back against the pillow, going limp. "I…feel really hot though…hotter than before…"

Blushing, Ryou opened his eyes again, and looked at Marik. "I'm getting better though," Ryou said hopefully. Marik's eyes narrowed fractionally.

"No you're not," Marik muttered. "Don't lie to me. You're fever's higher than yesterday."

Blushing disappointedly, Ryou looked down at his lap. Every time when he heard Marik's hard voice in such a tone, it seemed to make him feel more chastised than ever.

"I'm sorry," Ryou sighed sadly. "But…I feel better, I really do…I mean, I'm a little hotter than before, but, at least I can walk a bit!" At this mention, he turned again to face Marik with a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "I can walk a bit!"

"Without my help, you can't last even two steps," Marik said sourly. He gave Ryou a brief, piercing look. "So shut up."

Defeated, Ryou slumped against the pillows, staring down at his lap. Sighing sourly, Marik dragged the basket from between the chair and the bed, and shoved it onto Ryou's lap.

"Go. Sew. Knit. Do something!" Marik muttered erratically. "By Ra…stupid little…"

Nodding weakly, Ryou gingerly picked out his doll and needle from the basket, and began to sew. He had taught Marik how to sew just a few days ago, and promised Marik to make one really special for him. However, he was merely improvising…he longed to give Marik a plushie of himself, but he knew Marik would reject it if it was…

Scowling, Marik looked away. Ryou blinked up at him curiously.

"Something wrong, Mariku?" Ryou asked tentatively. Marik's scowl turned deeper and he didn't reply.

"Nothing," Marik scowled finally. Nodding, Ryou turned back to his sewing, beginning to sew the hairline of his doll. Better not to inquire.

As Ryou picked away at the tiny plushie, Marik watched from the corner of his eye. A while ago, Ryou had promised to make him something. Of course, Marik had no clue what and didn't actually care, but at least it gave Ryou the excuse to stop interrogating him once in a while. Stupid inquisitive little thief…

Silently, Marik sighed, and continued to watch Ryou discreetly. Yes, there _had _been something on his mind, but he wasn't quite sure how to say it. Yes, there _was_ something Marik wanted to ask, but he didn't seem to possess the courage to say it.

_I'll say it,_ the conscience chirruped. _I'll say it! Ryou, my little thief, would you like to---_

_Shut up,_ Marik snapped at his conscience sharply. _Stupid little…_

_Voice? Conscience? Cricket? _the conscience smirked. _Cupid?_

_…Shut up._

Sighing, Marik closed his eyes. There was a festival going in the nearest village…it was quite a large festival too, actually. A month's worth of celebrating, dancing, music and singing…just things all in all, Ryou would love. After all, Marik did remember reading somewhere that fresh air was good for the sick…and Ryou needed fresh air, didn't he?

_Little Mariku needs an excuse to ask Ryou out on a date…_the voice sang. Marik's scowl deepened.

_SHUT UP._

Taking a deep breath, Marik forced himself to remain calm. Although he wasn't sure why he was so bothered if Ryou said yes or not, he was still determined to ask. If he _did_ ask, Ryou would probably think they were in love again, which they were NOT…at least…not Marik…and if he _didn't_ ask, he would never have gotten the chance to help Ryou get better…after all, after what Ryou had been through, didn't he deserve a _little _fun to cheer him up?

_Mariku's getting saaapy…_the conscience sang. _Flowers and roses and little rings, chocolates and lilies and tiny things…Mariku's going softer and sweeter, Ryou's going to meet his little lover…_

Marik's eyes widened and twitched visibly. "SHUT UP!"

"W-What?"

Suddenly, Marik froze.

Slowly, he turned to face Ryou, who was staring at him with wide, hurt eyes.

"I-I'm sorry?"

For a moment, Marik blinked. Did…he just…say that out loud?

…Oh damn.

"…Nothing," Marik snapped. "Just….thinking…out loud…"

Nodding slowly, Ryou hesitantly returned to his stitching, sill looking unsure. "O-okay…If you…say so…Mariku…"

Scowling again, Marik glared at the ceiling.

"You know…there's a festival up there, going on, right now," Marik muttered, still glaring at the ceiling. Blinking, Ryou turned up and looked at Marik, his gaze curious.

"Oh? Wow…that sounds like fun," Ryou smiled softly. "It would be fun to go…"

Still glaring at the ceiling accusingly, Marik snorted. "…Well…if you want…" A small pit of awkwardness swelled in Marik's guts, and still scowling, he began to rub the back of his neck. "Well…if you really like the festival…we, that is, you, I mean…" Emotions going wild, Marik exhaled in frustration. "…Nevermind!"

Blinking, Ryou stared at Marik for a while, totally clueless as to why his former lover was looking as though he was having severe difficulties speaking. Arching an eyebrow, Ryou tentatively put a hand on Marik's shoulder, but the other brushed it away.

"Forget it," Marik snapped. Jerking his hand back, Ryou bowed his head back onto his lap.

"Oh…Okay…" Ryou mumbled, totally confused. Gingerly, he picked up his materials again, biting his lip nervously at Marik's attitude. This was new…

Exhaling sharply, Marik turned to Ryou, analyzing him. Did he want to miss his chance? Knowing Ryou, Ryou would probably say yes anyway…what was the risk? It wasn't like Marik was in _love_ or anything…

So before he could regret his moment, Marik grabbed Ryou's hand.

Startled, Ryou looked up at Marik again, dropping his needle. Although Marik's expression was still hard and narrow, his eyes had a sharp, wary intensity behind them, as though he was daring Ryou to reject him.

"Actually, there was something I wanted to say," Marik said seriously, his voice low. Blinking, Ryou's eyes turned wide, his wrist beginning to hurt from Marik's grip.

"O-Okay," Ryou nodded, his wrist flinching a bit in Marik's grasp. "What…what was it?"

Eyes narrowing, Marik leaned forwards, still staring piercingly in Ryou's eyes.

"Ryou, will you come----"

At that moment, the door burst open. Startled, both Marik and Ryou turned towards the doorway; Ryou confused, and Marik cursing in his mind at his broken opportunity.

"RYOU-CHAN!"

Squealing with hype, Malik ran across the room, and leapt into the air. Arms flailing wide, the former Light soared through the air, flew over Marik, and landed on the bed next to Ryou. A second later, Malik had wound his arms around Ryou's torso, accidentally breaking Marik's grip on Ryou's wrist.

"RYOU-CHAAAAN!"

"E-er…Hello, Malik!" Ryou greeted weakly, looking nervously at Marik. Malik squealed and gripped Ryou tighter.

"Bakura-kun took me out! Bakura-kun took me out! We just went to the festival and IT'S SO MUCH FUN! RYOU-KUN, COME WITH US! RYOU-KUN, COME WITH US!"

Eyes wide, Ryou shook his head, attempting to clear his mind. So much was going on at once, it was too baffling. "W-wait, stop for a moment, Malik-kun, you're talking too fast…I don't think you should be here…"

A low chuckle came from the doorway, and momentarily, everyone stopped and turned in that direction. Marik rolled his eyes and snarled, baring a fang, while Malik giggled drunkenly, clasping onto Ryou's arm.

"BAKURA-KUUUNN!"

Grinning, Bakura stood in the doorway, one arm resting against the frame. His usual red cloak was gone and replaced by a blue one, upon which dangled many sacks of jewelry, coins, and little toys. Festival ribbons dangled out from some, and when he stepped through the doorway, little speckles of confetti-like streamers twinkled onto the floor.

"Oh, stupid confetti," Bakura complained, looking behind him. "Eh, the maid will clean it up." Smirking, Bakura straightened, and began to walk towards the bed, totally ignoring Marik. "Morning, ore no hikari…excuse me for bringing me for barging in like this again, but when Malik's this sugar-high, I can't really stop him." Cocking his head to the side, Bakura grinned. "At any rate, feeling any better, ore no hikari?"

"Fresh air is good for sick people!" Malik chirruped. "I read that in a book somewhere!"

Chuckling, Bakura stretched his neck, scratching the back of his hair lightly. "Sure. Whatever." Again, Bakura stretched his neck. "Bahh, stupid sparring competition…"

"Bakura-kun got me THIS!" Malik squealed. With a flash, he held up a large doll that was almost his whole torso length. The huge doll even bore some resemblance to Malik; blond bangs, big chibi lavender eyes, and was donning black linen sarong and a purple shirt.

"ISN'T IT PRETTY!" Malik squealed, clutching the doll. Both Marik and Ryou merely widened their eyes at Malik's behavior. For Ryou, this was nothing but slightly amusing, but for Marik…he had never seen his former host act so…carefree.

"You get to personalize your dolls," Bakura grinned. "Granted, I bet I or even Ryou could make one better than that, but since the booth was there…" Grinning, Bakura chuckled again, stretching his neck the other way. "By Ra, landlord, wish you could help me with this again…"

"A-ano…I'm not sure I can, B-Bakura-sama," Ryou stuttered quietly, looking nervously at Marik. The Egyptian was glowering dangerously at the blue-cloaked Bakura, who was still stretching his muscles, unintentionally giving everyone a good profile of his chest.

Malik grinned and let out an obsessed squeal. "BAKU-BAKU-CHAN IS SOOOO SEXXXXYYYY!"

Immediately, a blush blossomed over Ryou's nose, while Marik ducked his head into his hand, which was trembling with intense self-control. Blushing redder still, Ryou tried to shuffle beneath his blankets, but the hyper / drunk Malik grabbed him in a vice grip, clambering on top of the other's lap.

"Eep!" Ryou squeaked. "Malik-kun!"

"Ryou-chan is sho cute!" Malik cooed, nuzzling Ryou's nose. "He looks like a girl!"

Again, Ryou squeaked. He wasn't sure if his face could get any redder before combusting.

Snickering, Bakura strode by the bed, releasing his white hair from the pale blue hood that previously covered it. As his white strands tumbled back to his shoulders, he sat down on the bed's end, grabbing a little bag from his chest and throwing it to Ryou.

"Here, landlord," Bakura smirked. "Payment of my vacancy."

"Y-You don't have to pay for vacancy," Ryou stuttered, catching the little bag. Bakura rolled his eyes.

"Does a yami need to have an excuse to buy his hikari a gift?" he smirked. "Just keep it. Finest beads in all of Egypt. Make something nice for pouting lover-boy over there."

At this, Marik's eyes narrowed even further, and looking up briefly, he gave Bakura an intensely hard stare. The only reason why he hadn't left was because he still needed to ask Ryou…although the mood was totally ruined already.

_There was a mood? _the conscience asked in a slightly flat tone. _All I remember was you squeezing the bloody hell out of …_

"---So anyways," Bakura continued, "Malik and I were thinking. Since you've been getting a little better lately, and fresh air is good for you, and you love festivals like these…" With a wryly grin, Bakura's eyes glittered. "They have dancing, hikari. Lots of dancing. Lots of dancing, and singing, and fire."

For a slight moment, Ryou's eyes also glittered, the same glitter that was shining in Bakura's eyes. For one moment, it was as though only Ryou and Bakura were present; for what they spoke of seemed purely yami and hikari worthy.

"Dancing? Fire?" Ryou breathed. "Y-You mean…liked Bonfire Night?"

For once, the wryly grin spread into a genuine smile, and Bakura nodded, his eyes shining the same excitement and distant longing as Ryou did. "Yes, ore no hikari…Bonfire Night, All Souls Night…almost like it, hikari. People dancing in circles and people playing music, long long into the night…"

Eyes so bright, Ryou gave a sigh of longing and desire. "Bonfire Night…oh, how I'd love to go…"

"You can," Bakura grinned. "You can come with me and Malik. We'll make sure you don't overexert yourself, and we'll make sure you also enjoy yourself. If only we had a violin, I bet you could totally whip those village musicians."

"But I…I haven't played in five years," Ryou stuttered. "I would never be as good as I was before!"

"Heh, you still obviously remember something from your childhood," Bakura snorted, closing his eyes and stretching his neck once more. "You haven't made a plushie since you were twelve, and yet you can still make this one just as skillfully." To prove his point, Bakura bent forward and snatched the doll away, admiring it expertly from all angles. "See? Perfect lining, neat, balanced stuffing, invisible stitching…" Chuckling, Bakura threw the doll back at Ryou. "Perfectionist that you are."

Blushing modestly, Ryou gently laid the doll back into his lap. "It's only perfect because it's for someone special…" he breathed softly to himself. Nobody except Marik heard.

Smiling with what looked like discreet pride, Bakura leaned back and continued to observe his former Light.

"So you coming?" Malik chirruped.

For a while, everything was silent, as everyone awaited Ryou's answer. As Marik watched Ryou from the corner of his eye, he couldn't help but feel slightly tense. Ryou…he wanted to go with Ryou! He was going to ask first! Why…why must Bakura and Malik ruin everything that could've been his!

His conscience gave a soft whine of defeat. Even his heart dreaded Ryou's decision. Of course Ryou would choose to go with Bakura and Malik…after all, Malik was his closest friend, and Bakura was his former yami…the two people in the world that Ryou could depend on, no matter what…

Marik had half a mind just to stand up and walk away, before he suddenly felt a hand wrap around his own.

Blinking with surprise once more, he turned to Ryou again. The Light was looking up at him with what looked like adoration and soft longing, twinkling brightly within his warm, chocolate eyes.

"No, Bakura-sama," Ryou whispered, still looking up at Marik. "I…I'm going with Marik."

* * *

Although there was nothing to be pleased about, Marik still felt pleased.

He was in his own chambers on the other side of the labyrinth from Ryou's room. It had its own separate staircase that lead to the outside world, right next to a deep and luscious valley. And taking a candle and walking up that staircase, Marik felt a sense of tranquility and peace that he hadn't felt in ages.

Ryou had chosen him. Chosen _him._ Marik. Chosen Marik over a close, brotherly yami…chosen Marik over a kind and dependable friend. Ryou had chosen to go with Marik, who had hurt him inexcusably numerous of times, instead of Malik and Bakura, who had fought to keep him safe.

When Ryou had said yes, Marik had not seemed to notice anything else. It felt as though his entire world had stilled, and nothing could have broken it apart. Not even when Malik began to whine, or when Bakura began to argue. He didn't even glare at Bakura when the thief called him an "empty dimwit".

_Ryou wants to come with me…_Marik thought distantly to himself. _He chose me before Malik and Bakura…_

Somehow, knowing that Ryou had chosen him before someone else had heightened Marik's appreciation. It didn't seem to be a big thing if he had asked and Ryou had said yes…but now, knowing that Ryou had put him before others, it made Ryou's answer all the more praising.

And even after Bakura and Malik had left, each of them wishing Ryou the best of luck (since they knew that in this case, Ryou would get his way), Marik had stayed. His fingers had still been entwined with Ryou's, and he had still been staring deep into Ryou's eyes.

And, even though it was merely for a fleeting moment, Marik had smiled.

And although it was only a fleeting moment, Marik knew that Ryou had seen it, and perhaps that is why the Light had begun to cry tears of happiness. Perhaps that was why Ryou had curled up against Marik's chest, and whispered soft words of thanks, of adoration, of apology, and full of…

… love.

And although Marik had done nothing but stroke Ryou's hair, his heart had lifted. Some smoldering part of him still denied that what he was feeling was slowly becoming love once more, but even then, Marik was starting to doubt himself.

In the concern of love, Marik had just decided to leave it there. It was something of the unknown, so there was no point fretting over it. What was important now was making Ryou's outing the best time of his life.

He reached the top of the stairs. Slowly, he wrenched the door open, and as the wind wisped by his sides, Marik took a step forward, and entered into the sky.

* * *

Sighing, Ryou snuggled down against his pillow again, feeling oddly tired. Granted, he had always felt tired, but lately, his body seemed to be dragging further and further downwards. It wasn't as though he was in any pain…of course, there were still some bruises, and his legs would scream in agony any time they were put into pressure, and of course, his backside was still flaming, sharply spiking him every time he shifted his legs.

But the whip marks on his back were healing fine, and his head injuries and old bruises were fading. In the short run, Ryou thought he was actually healing considerably well, even though at times he couldn't breathe.

Gasping, Ryou coughed into his hand, his lungs hacking violently. After a few moments, he coughed up a strange, sickly black clot, and grimacing, he wiped his hand on a rag and threw the rag across the room.

He knew he should've been worried, but strangely, he wasn't. He had always been a sickly, weakly boy…what made this time any different?

Groaning, Ryou placed the back of his hand onto his forehead, grimacing at the heat that radiated from it. His face felt hot…so hot…as through it was throbbing on its own with coals in his skull. It felt as though his entire blood was on fire, rushing towards his cheeks and burning more so there.

A bead of sweat ran down Ryou's temple.

* * *

A few days had passed, and now, Marik was standing in front of Ryou's door. He had been visiting Ryou very little lately, preparing for Ryou's big day on his own time. For a moment, Marik felt a rush of excitement and adrenaline, tinged with a hint of nervousness. Behind him stood nearly an army of servants and slaves, all ready to wait hand and foot to make sure Ryou was fine.

Knocking thrice, Marik opened the door, and cautiously stepped in. For once, he had decided to forget his anger and dark nature, and, like Malik, maybe he could afford to be carefree at least once this day.

He had even dressed nicely for the occasion. Though still donning his black cloak, it was now fastened with a scarab brooch. Beneath his cloak, he was wearing only his black sarong; however the embroidery upon it was intricate and laced with gold. From his waist hung a golden chain of onyx stone, matching with his cloak and sarong well.

When the door swung wide, Ryou weakly looked up from his bedside. For once, Marik greeted Ryou with a small smile, and striding towards Ryou's bedside, he swiftly sat down next to his companion.

"Hey," Marik smiled softly. "How are you feeling today?"

Smiling weakly, Ryou laughed softly. Marik had never asked him how he felt before. "Fine, Mariku," Ryou whispered.

"You feeling better than yesterday?" Marik inquired, discretely taking Ryou's hand. Although it was a lie, Ryou nodded.

"Yes, Mariku," he whispered, smiling warmly. Marik nodded.

"Good," he replied firmly. Gently, he reached out forwards and stroked Ryou's skin. A soft frown graced Marik's face, and he pressed his hand a little firmer against Ryou's cheek. "You're burning up, Ryou…"

Coughing weakly, Ryou nodded, but he shook it off. "I'm fine, Mariku," Ryou whispered tiredly, his voice sounding somewhat strained. "I'll…I'll be fine."

"You sure?" Marik asked seriously, his eyes narrowing. "Maybe we shouldn't go today, if you're feeling unwell."

Coughing, Ryou turned his head away, shaking his head. He knew how much this outing meant to Marik, and although he would've liked to just sleep all day, he didn't want to deny Marik this one day-out.

"No-no…I'm fine, Mariku, really," Ryou rasped out. Coughing once more and clearing his throat, Ryou looked up at Marik, and gave him his brightest smile. "Shall we go?"

Nodding, Marik straightened up. Although he was sure that Ryou was very sick, he still didn't want to miss this day. After all, maybe this was the day he could finally show Ryou his apology…he had been struggling to find a way to say sorry anyhow.

He really didn't want to screw this up.

Snapping his fingers once, two servant girls pushed a creaking chair into the room. Ryou's eyes widened at the chair.

"I got it made for you," Marik said shortly, though not in a cold way. Ryou's eyes blinked.

Carved entirely out of wood was a chair. Beside the chair, however, on either side, was a thin, yet sturdy wheel. The chair was sitting on a beam that was stretched from both wooden wheels, and on the back of the chair protruded two handles. The chair even had armrests and was draped in deep, royal purple.

"A wheelchair?" Ryou breathed. Marik smirked.

"Did you expect me to carry you all the way to the festival?" Marik asked. "It's sturdy enough, built by the best wood and blacksmith in the palace. It's strong enough to probably even carry Bakura and Malik's weight combined. You'd have no trouble fitting in."

"You…you sure?" Ryou breathed, as the wheelchair was rolled towards his bedside. Marik snorted.

"Do you underestimate me, Ryou?" he asked. Ryou hastily shook his head.

"No…no…no," Ryou shook his head again. He eyed the chair, and a faint smile brushed across his lips. "You made it for me?" he whispered, unable to keep the touch out of his voice.

"Of course," Marik answered shortly, again, not in a cold way. "How else will we get around? You're not exactly capable of walking."

Ryou smiled. "I…I know." Looking up, he gave Marik a large, happy smile. "Thank you, Mariku."

Marik merely snorted, but swept Ryou up anyways, and placed the other promptly into the chair. Two more servant girls quickly ran forwards and draped a soft bed sheet over his legs, while another placed two more small cushions in the corners.

"Marik, is all this really necessary?" Ryou asked unsurely, fidgeting slightly as the servant girls flinched noticeably when they accidentally had touched his skin. "I'm fine enough already…"

But Marik merely strode in front of Ryou, and crossed his arms. Fidgeting again, Ryou gave in, and snuggled into the bed sheet and cushions. Smirking triumphantly, Marik snorted, and snapped his fingers twice. The same two servant girls stood, and then began pushing Ryou's chair, although it was rather obvious that they didn't want to touch him at all.

"Bring him outside the room," Marik ordered. "I'll take him from there."

"Yes, Master Marik," the girls chorused. Hesitating only once, the two girls then wheeled Ryou towards the door. The large army of servants parted for them to pass.

A soft blush lit up Ryou's face, and he tried to hide his face from the scrutiny of the numerous amount of people by drawing the sheet to his face.

_This feels so awkward…_he thought to himself. His cheeks burned and he closed his eyes. _I hope I'm not going to trip or anything…how embarrassing…_

Suddenly, a voice cut through the mass of people, followed by an arm waving for attention.

"Marik!"

Eyebrows raising, Marik turned to the sound of the voice. Pushing her way though came Isis, her blue eyes flashing and her normally neat hair slightly disordered.

"Marik! What on earth are you doing?"

"Taking Ryou for an outing, what does it look like?" asked Marik irritably. The priestess gave an exasperated sigh.

"Marik! Why did you not consult me about this?" she raved, her hands waving unfittingly for a priestess of her stature. Many of the servants had finally seen her headdress and quickly bowed down on their knees, thankfully missing her frantic hands.

"Am I supposed to inform you of every step I take?" snapped Marik coldly again. "And mind yourself, _sister_, that it is highly unbecoming for a woman of your status to be raging yourself at me in such a fashion. Grow up."

"You should know," Isis retorted back. Marik arched an eyebrow. For once, he was actually somewhat surprised to see Isis so frantic…she had always been so calm before hand.

"And what exactly brings you here today then?" Marik mocked sardonically. "Did your Tauk send you little messages telling you that your brother's yami was up to no good?"

"No," Isis bristled. "That's hardly the point. I heard from Malik that you were planning to take Ryou out to the festival today. Marik, you can't do that!"

"And why ever not?" Marik snapped angrily. He straightened himself to his full height, glaring menacingly down at Isis. The priestess, however, returned the glare as easily as her brother.

"Because it is hardly healthy for him!" the priestess argued back. "Normally, I would not object to letting Ryou be out in the sun, but in his current state, letting him outside would be worse than letting him stay inside!"

"And why is that?" Marik sneered. "Is it just because _I _am with him? Or will he be safe if he goes with his precious _Bakura-chan_ and _Malik-chan_?"

"Marik, for once in your life, consider Ryou above your own needs!" Isis reprimanded sharply. "I have heard that you have not been giving Ryou his pills. I'm actually surprised he still seems well even though you've been neglecting him. However, letting him out in the boiling hot _Egyptian _sun is far too much of a strain for him! Marik, he can barely WALK!"

"I can walk," Ryou piped up meekly. Both Isis and Marik ignored him, still currently glaring at one another angrily.

"Marik, Ryou's fever is already too high as it is," she said sharply. "You put him out there in the sun and he will boil out there! His skin is too pale to even survive Ra's rays, much less protect him! If his fever doesn't get any higher, he will catch a severe sunburn!"  
"He'll be covered," Marik argued back. He swept out his hand to the many kneeling servants around him. "Look! I have all the servants and slaves I need to keep him in check! He will have shade! He will be covered! By Ra, he will even have his own army of servants to fan him if he wishes!"

"And how does Ryou actually feel about that?" Isis asked, glaring at Marik pointedly. "Somehow, I highly doubt Ryou would be comfortable knowing that tens of slaves and servants are at his beck and call. Combined with his discomfort, his fever, his skin, and his inability to walk, Marik, how well do you think Ryou is going to heal! He is sick enough as it is, at least give him the chance to rest! If not, even emotional situations can cause him problems!"

"What problems?" Marik yelled back. "He is FINE, Isis! Do NOT treat him a like a child! He is FINE! Look at him! He's looking much better than before, and that's even without me giving him pills to be dependant upon. You are just overreacting, _sister._"

"Marik, he can barely WALK!" Isis cried.

"Does it MATTER?" Marik retorted. "He's going to be fine---"

"And if the servants don't like him? Don't care for him up to your standard? Scare him off with the bowing that only satisfies YOU? What are you going to do then?"

"Oh by Ra, FINE, no more servants---"

"Then who's going to take care of him, shade him, let him drink water every---"

"He's not a bloody baby and nor am I, Isis!"

"Do not raise your voice to me, Marik Ishtal!"

"I am NOT YOUR BABY BROTHER YOU BI----"

"Stop it."

Abruptly, both Marik and Isis ended their argument, and both turned to Ryou. The white-haired boy was looking down at his lap, but his face was set in the faintest of frowns. Slowly, he raised his eyes, and the slight glare disappeared; only replaced by longing and disapproval.

"Please don't fight anymore," Ryou requested softly. His eyes floated from Marik, and then to Isis. "I'm fine, Isis…really. I promised Marik we'd go out today, and I am fine. Really." A small, weak smile grew on Ryou's face, and he looked up into Isis's eyes. "And I can walk, Isis. See?"

Lowering his eyes again, Ryou gripped the armrests of the chair, and shakily stood up.

Immediately, the nearest servant girls scooted back a bit, giving Ryou some room. Following suit, both Isis and Marik took a step back, staring at Ryou in what seemed to be uncomprehending awe. More so in Marik's eyes, however, was a faint trace of confusion.

_What the hell is he doing?_ he thought to himself. _He can't walk; he can barely go two steps without my help…_

Biting back a groan, Ryou wavered a bit on his feet. Though his legs were aching painfully, the sharp explosion of pain was gone. What seemed to be Ryou's only worry now was the tilting floorboard beneath his feet.

"Ryou, I hardly think---" Isis started, but Ryou shook his head, and she fell silent. Gasping softly, Ryou continued to make his feet walk properly. Once he seemed to regain his balance, he unsteadily pulled one of his hands from the arm of the chair, followed by the other.

For a moment, he wavered a bit precariously, a flash of fear glowing in his eyes. That moment passed rather quickly, however, as Ryou stared back down on the ground, and tried to take his first step.

This time, pain did explode in his legs, and Ryou let out a pained whimper. However, despite the burning agony his calves were forced to endure, he was determined to prove himself to Marik and Isis. Panting softly, he wavered again, before taking another step.

His journey was slow and terribly arduous. However, after six, seven hard steps, he made his way to Marik's side, and collapsed into the other's arms.

Surprised, Marik quickly caught the other, feeling the other boy twitch softly against him. He was still very surprised and very dumb to the idea of it, but nevertheless, he held Ryou close, unsure about his own actions himself.

Weakly, Ryou looked up, and gave Marik a feeble smile. After a moment, the white-haired boy turned to Isis, and his smile broadened.

"I'm fine, Isis-san," Ryou smiled. "And if I do get into trouble…Mariku will take care of me. I promise."

Looking back up at Marik, Ryou gave the other another smile again, before resting against Marik's chest. Finally out of his daze, Marik silently returned Ryou back to his chair, knowing subconsciously that the boy was now most likely extremely tired. He turned back to look at Isis.

"Well?" he asked coldly. "Any more objections?"

Taking a deep breath, Isis's face slowly coiled into a faint scowl of disapproval. Her eyes floated from Ryou to Marik, and her disapproved frown deepened.

"Yes, I do," she stated, her voice stern and unwavering. "None of these servants, Marik. They will cause much attention and the pharaoh will notice. You can't exactly expect to give Ryou a parade procession and not expect the Pharaoh to come and investigate."

Marik rolled his eyes and returned the chair. "Fine, fine."

"And no going into the festival!" Isis commanded sharply. "The dancing and music there will overexert him! No going to the festival!"

Marik's mouth dropped in indignation. "We just decided that we were!" he argued angrily. "What the hell are you ----"

"I never said you couldn't go outside," Isis replied calmly. "But I do not want you go into that village. People will stare, and people will get suspicious. And more so, the excitement will not be healthy for Ryou's heart."

"Ryou's heart is fine!" Marik growled exasperatedly. "By the gods, Isis----"

"Not by what Bakura and Malik have told me," Isis said firmly. "And to be clear, Marik, I was there when Ryou was on the blimp as well. Had not Bakura saved him in time, Osiris's attack would have left him in a state of mental distortion. No doing anything that might get Ryou's heart rate up. And that _includes_ emotional things too."

"By Ra, you treat him like a porcelain doll!" Marik grumbled. Isis shook her head.

"I am just being cautious," she said firmly. "I'm not so sure why you are being so indignant, Marik. I don't hear Ryou complaining. Ryou, do my conditions satisfy you?"

"Hum?" Ryou wearily opened his eyes, and gave Isis a sheepish smile. "Fine, Isis-san. We'll be good, don't worry."

Looking like a triumphant mother, Isis placed her hands on her hips and nodded her head at Marik. "See? He doesn't seem to mind. Now are you going to follow my conditions or not, Marik?"

Scowling angrily and glaring at Isis, Marik threw his hands in the air. "Fine! Fine. We won't go to the festival or do anything that will overexert your precious Ryou."

"He's not _my _precious Ryou," Isis retorted. She gave Marik a pointed look, then looked at Ryou. Ryou blinked back confusedly, and Marik growled.

"Oh, stop gawking at him!" Marik snarled, gripping the handles at the back of the chair. "And back off! Good Ra…"

Sighing, Isis shook her head, and stepped to the side. Scowling, Marik quickly pushed Ryou out of the door, and turned into the hallway. A servant boy quickly placed a basket onto Ryou's lap, and Marik nodded at the boy.

Isis sighed and waved reluctantly.

"Ryou! Take care of yourself, alright! And thank you for helping Malik with school…we truly are in your debt."

A soft smile appeared on Ryou's face, and he blushed modestly.

"It's alight, Isis-san," he called politely. "It was my pleasure."

Sighing, Isis shook her head. "You are too kind, Ryou. I want to make sure you're fine. Take care of yourself while you are out, alright?"

"Alright," Ryou called back. He looked over his shoulder and gave Isis a broad grin. Isis smiled despite herself.

"Do you promise?"

Ryou laughed and nodded.

"Promise, Isis-san!"

Scowling, Marik rolled his eyes and pushed Ryou further down the corridor, walking as fast as humanly possible away from Isis. As she watched Marik and Ryou slowly disappear into the corridor, Isis gave a soft sigh, and sadly shook her head.

"Some promises are truly hard to keep, Ryou-chan," she whispered. Sighing again, she looked back up at the corridor, where Marik and Ryou were no longer in sight.

Her fingers gently brushed against the Tauk once more.

"Be careful, Ryou-chan…"

* * *

Sighing softly, Marik looked down at Ryou. Now that he actually had the time to look at Ryou, he realized that perhaps Bakura, Malik and Isis were right. The Light's eyes were closed, and he was leaning back exhaustedly. His cheeks were glowing and his chest was heaving somewhat unevenly.

_He really does look sick,_ Marik thought quietly to himself. _But he wanted to come out so badly…_ Again, Marik sighed, and looked towards the village that lay in the horizon. _Too bad we can't even go…maybe we should go back…_

For a few more moments, they wheeled out in silence among the dunes. A large palm tree stood in the distance, just a few kilometers away from the village. Marik allowed himself a smile and rolled Ryou towards the tree.

"Are you tired?" asked Marik, as the tree neared. Ryou weakly opened his eyes.

"N-No…I'm okay…" he whispered. Tiredly, he raised one pale hand over his head, shielding his eyes from the hot sun. "It's just…so warm out today…"

Marik rolled his eyes again. "What did you expect? It's Egypt."

Ryou nodded weakly. "I know."

Sighing, Marik shook his head, and finally wheeled Ryou by the tree. The swaying palm leaves thankfully provided enough shade for Ryou, and the sick boy sighed in relief.

Taking the basket away from Ryou's lap, Marik continued to eye the boy carefully. Poor Ryou…he looked as though he was ready to fall asleep right then and there. Not realizing what he was doing, Marik gently nudged the other, smiling gently when Ryou opened his eyes.

"You sure you're alright?" Marik inquired. Looking at him, Ryou returned the smile, and nodded.

"I'm fine, Mariku," Ryou whispered. "Really."  
Marik nodded slowly. Absently, he took out a large blanket, and rolled it out on the ground. Taking more care than he thought he was capable of, he gently picked Ryou off from the chair, and laid the Light on the cloth.

Ryou blinked curiously. "A picnic, Mariku?"

Marik merely grunted in response, placing Ryou so that the Light was somewhat leaning against the wheelchair for support. He grabbed a cushion and promptly stuffed it behind Ryou's back, so that the Light was in a comfortable, semi-sitting position.

"Why not?" Marik asked gruffly, grabbing the picnic basket and placing it next to Ryou. Next, he gabbed the bed sheet from the wheelchair seat, and draped it over Ryou's legs. "You seem to be in love with that sort of sappy stuff, and since we can't go to the festival anyways, we might as well."

For a moment, Ryou merely stared at Marik. However, soon his blank look became a grateful, touched smile, and gently, Ryou laid his hand on Marik's.

"Thanks," he whispered sincerely. Despite his pride, Marik smirked and rolled his eyes, before settling down next to Ryou and opening the basket.

"You're a stupid sap, you know that?" Marik asked, reaching into the basket and pulling out Ryou's unfinished doll. He dropped it in Ryou's lap, digging around in the basket for string and needles. Ryou giggled tiredly. "You're such a girl…a romantic sap…your neat-freakness…the way you can actually hold a needle…you're a stupid sappy girl, you know that?"

"I know," he smiled softly. "But I appreciate everything you're doing for me…really."  
Marik merely snorted. "Only someone as naïve as you can thank me for something like this."

Closing his eyes, Ryou shrugged. "I guess I'll always be that way," he sighed softly. Once again, Marik stared at Ryou for a bit, noting the other's breathing and flushed face.

"Do you want to take a nap?" Marik asked shortly. "Despite what you say, you seem very tired."

Again, Ryou gave a weak shrug. "I can't sleep anyways…" he said distantly. "They always come when I sleep…"

"They?" Marik inquired. He had never heard Ryou mention his nightmares before, except when they were on the blimp. Even then, Marik had naturally assumed that Bakura was the cause to Ryou's nightmares.

Thinking of the blimp made Marik's guts writhe. Since he didn't want to dwell on the matter, he refused to reminisce, and pushed the feeling away with his pride.

Ryou's red cheeks burned brighter as he opened his eyes. "Oh…umn…it's nothing," Ryou whispered, smiling assuredly at Marik. "I just…I just tend to see certain things when I dream bad dreams…like…shadows and stuff…it's nothing scary."

"But obviously it bothers you," Marik stated. "Or otherwise you'd go to sleep if you could. You're afraid, aren't you? Of your nightmares?"

Ryou's smile slowly disappeared, and looking away, he nodded slowly. Again, Marik sighed.

"What do you dream of that scares you so much? Is it Bakura?"  
Closing his eyes, Ryou shook his head silently. Marik sighed again and looked up into the sky, as though praying the gods for patience.

"Well then, what scares you about your nightmares? Is it your mother? Your sister? Your father?"

A faint look of pain flickered across Ryou's face, and Marik sighed loudly. Muttering darkly, he laid down on his back, scowling at the sky.

"By the gods, I show one sliver of compassion, and you turn to stone. Great," he muttered to the sky. "You know, I try to care, I try to make things up to you, I try to understand you, but you always clam up."

"I…I'm sorry," Ryou mumbled. He finally opened his eyes, and tried to give Marik a weak smile. "I…I'm sorry. I should thank you for bringing me out…it was really thoughtful of you."

Marik snorted. "We're not doing anything though, idiot. We can't even go to the festival."

Relieved that his dreams were no longer the topic of conversation, Ryou's smile grew stronger, and a slight bit sympathetic. "That's alright…I don't mind not going," he said. "I'm sure we can go some other time."

Blinking, Marik slowly arched his eyebrow, and turned to look at Ryou.

"You…you'd still want to go?" he asked seriously. Ryou nodded sincerely.

"Of course," he smiled. "It was so kind of you to take me outside like this…even though Isis said it wasn't good for me. And even though we can't go to the festival, I'm still happy right here."

"Why?" Marik asked. "You loved the festival, by the looks of it when Bakura asked you. Why suddenly the change of heart?"

Ryou's smile turned into a soft giggle. "I suppose…It's not the festival as much as the company you go with." He gave Marik a cheery grin, and Marik almost smiled.

_Almost._

Letting out a soft snort, Marik turned his attention back to the sky, tucking his hands beneath his head. "So you're saying that you wanted to go with me cause you didn't want to go with Bakura? Is that it?"

Shrugging, Ryou looked back at his lap, though he was still smiling and was more likely just tired. "He and Malik-kun need some time alone anyway," Ryou sighed ambiguously. "I wouldn't want to be intruding on them. After all, Bakura-sama really missed Malik while they were apart…I don't really want to interfere."

Again, Marik rolled his eyes. "By the gods, you are so self-sacrificial. Has it ever occurred to you to ever do anything selfish?"

Curiously, Ryou looked at Marik.

"Why would I want to do anything selfish?"

Shaking his head, Marik rolled onto his side, narrowing his gaze at Ryou. The white-haired boy continued to look at Marik with a puzzled expression on his face.

"What I mean is," Marik clarified, "is that you can't live your life by giving it to others. By doing so, you have no control over the life that you do own. So why would you bother caring so much about others especially when you barely even give yourself enough attention?"

"I don't need the attention though," Ryou replied, still somewhat puzzled. "I have enough of life…it's fine the way it is. I'm happy being by myself, but Malik-kun and Bakura-sama might not be as happy with me there…"

"But for once, do you ever think about yourself?" Marik retorted. "I'm not talking about just Bakura and Malik. I've seen the way you are always so self-sacrificial. What exactly possesses you to think that you should give up your life for someone else's? What exactly possesses you to forgive someone when they've betrayed you? Hurt you? Nearly killed you?"

Ryou blinked. "You mean…like what Bakura-sama did to me before, you mean?"

Huffing, Marik rolled his eyes. "Sure, why not." He gave Ryou a look, though as Ryou looked closer, the look was not as piercing as before. "So why would you still forgive Bakura after all he's done to you? He isolated you from everyone you know, everyone you cared for. He made your life a living hell. How can you possibly forgive him?"

A soft look clouded Ryou's eyes, and the white-haired boy merely shrugged again. Looking back onto his lap, Ryou began to pick at his doll, carefully stitching away at the fabric.

"It's my nature, I suppose," Ryou mumbled, still needling away at his doll. Marik shook his head.

"It can't be just your nature," Marik pressured. "There must be a reason as to why you do something like that. You're more sensible than you let on, and I can tell, you know."

Ryou chuckled softly. "Why are you caring so much about my nature, Mariku?" he whispered. Marik rolled his eyes.

"I'm not caring about you," Marik muttered loudly. "I'm just…curious why you're that stupid, that's all."  
A soft blush colored Ryou's red cheeks, but the boy was still smiling. Slowly cocking his head to one side, he began to thread the doll's blond hair, pulling the needle lightly towards him.

"Well…I guess that's really the way I am," Ryou smiled, as he continued to weave his thread. "I…wanted to give Bakura-sama a chance…I mean…after seeing his village slaughtered like that…it reminded me a lot of how I felt when Amane and Mother died…I don't know, I guess once you understand someone, then it's possible for you to forgive them. Forgiveness would just be unjustified if it wasn't for the right reason."

"But why bother forgiving at all?" Marik asked, somewhat impatiently. "How can you trust him after all he's done to you?"

"Well…" Ryou sighed defeatedly. He paused for a moment, then looked at Marik. His eyes were wide and questioning. Marik arched an eyebrow.

"What?"

A soft smile graced Ryou's lips. "You seem very concerned about me," the Light noted. Marik rolled his eyes and turned away.

"No I'm not," Marik muttered. "I…you're just an idiot, that's all."

Again, Ryou shrugged, but this time, he gently leaned against Marik. The other froze.

"Guess I'll always be one then," Ryou smiled. He gave a soft sigh, and then closed his eyes. Marik, however, merely continued to stare at him in trepidation.

"What are you doing?" Marik asked flatly.

Ryou opened one eye and smiled brightly.

"I'm tired," he said simply. He closed his eye and rested his cheek on Marik's shoulder. Marik blinked.

_Well, I must say…_the conscience smiled fondly. _He's not the only one who is an idiot…_

Silently, Marik sighed.

_I'm not an idiot…_he thought to himself quietly. _He's an idiot…_

Smiling gently, the conscience cocked his head and stared at Ryou peacefully.

_Betcha he's your idiot though…_The conscience smirked. _But he's a pretty idiot…isn't he?_

Slowly, as though not realizing what he was doing, Marik slowly raised his hand. It trailed softly for a while in midair, just hesitatingly, before landing softly against Ryou's hair. The silver silk slipped through Marik's fingers like liquid, equally soft and equally smooth. A small smile graced Marik's lips.

_Yes…_he thought distantly to himself. _He is…very pretty._

Smiling to himself, Marik carefully shifted so that Ryou's head was comfortably positioned on his chest. The Light inhaled deeply in content, and lazily nuzzled into Marik's shirt. The same hand that was bracing Ryou's back trailed back to Ryou's hair, and began to stroke the silken strands once more.

"You're really pretty, Ryou…" Marik whispered silently. Although the Light didn't hear, Ryou inhaled once more, and relaxed against Marik's chest. The other's smile brightened.

"You are…so pretty…" Marik whispered. His other hand slowly raised, and cupped Ryou's cheek gently. A soft coo escaped Ryou's lips. "…And beautiful…and soft…and gentle…like…like a girl…"

The conscience giggled.

Smiling still, Marik closed his eyes. Slowly, he rested his head against Ryou's hair. The hand cupping Ryou's cheek tightened protectively, and Ryou subconsciously snuggled closer. For a while, they remained so, watching as the sun stretching across the sky. There was nothing else heard…nothing but the song of the wind, the whistle in the leaves, the scattering of the sand. For a while, both Light and Darkness spent a moment of tranquility, as precious as the day when they were on that picnic so many months ago.

And for those precious moments, even Marik's conscience fell silent.

"Ryou…" Marik whispered distantly. His lavender eyes shifted heavenward, and noticed the sun slowly descending into the horizon. His smile widened, and gently, he shook his lover. "…Ryou…Look…the sun is setting…"

Blinking slowly, Ryou gradually opened one of his eyes. Their brown depths began to glitter, and his smile strengthened. With a weary hand, he pointed to the sky, and followed the trail of the golden orb.

"It's…beautiful…" Ryou whispered. Marik nodded, still gazing at the horizon. "Like a ring of gold…or a wreath of rubies…like as if…everything before us…is made of something precious…"

Smiling serenely, Marik nodded.

"I see…gold, yes," he agreed quietly. "But I also see…ivory…pearl…silver…"

"Where?" Ryou breathed. He turned slightly to look at Marik. "You mean…the clouds?"

Smirking, Marik gently reached out, and wrapped his hand around Ryou's outstretched one. Tenderly, he brought Ryou's hand slowly to before him, and gazed distantly into Ryou's eyes. With a soft smirk, Marik brought Ryou's fingers to his lips, and kissed them.

"There."

A soft blush flushed Ryou's nose. Marik's smirk widened, and he leant his head to the side lazily. Slowly, he raised a finger, and gently brought it down Ryou's cheeks.

"And there's…ivory…" Shaking his head, Marik chuckled, and fondly brushed the bridge of Ryou's nose with his finger. "Oh, but that one's now a rose petal…" Ryou stifled a giggle, and looked deep into Marik's eyes. Just as slowly, Ryou's other hand reached up, and eventually cupped Marik's cheek.

"I see…bronze," Ryou whispered tenderly. Smiling, he began to stroke Marik's bangs and cheek. "…and gold…but most of all…I see…" Slowly, Ryou's smile faded. Blinking in bewilderment, he once again brushed Marik's bangs out of his eyes, and stared deep into them. Marik blinked.

"What?"

"I…I see…" Ryou's eyes widened in awe. "I…I see…lavender…"

Chuckling, Marik closed his eyes, and took Ryou's other hand. His fingers entwined themselves within Ryou's, and he kissed them tenderly.

"Tell me…" Marik breathed against Ryou's knuckles, "tell me…what does possess you…to forgive others like you have?" Ryou blinked, and blushed softly at their closeness.

"W-Well…s-sometimes…it just happens," Ryou stuttered shyly. Marik lazily opened one eye and stared at Ryou mischievously.

"Could it be…that love possesses you to do what you do?" Marik whispered. This time, Ryou's cheeks flushed bright red, and he laughed unsurely.

"Well…yes…I suppose so," he answered. Smiling, Marik pressed Ryou's hands against his lips once more, before looking up to stare deeply into Ryou's eyes.

"Then…tell me, Ryou…" Closing his eyes once more, Marik bent forwards, and placed his forehead against his lover's. "…What is love?"

Eyes wide, Ryou flushed a deeper red, blinking bewilderedly. "L-Love?"

A slight nod against his forehead. "Yes…Love." Again, Marik opened his eyes. "What is Love?"

Blushing, Ryou smiled hesitantly up at his former lover. For a moment, he could feel that warmth…that same warmth that welled in his chest and enveloped him. The same warmth he felt on the blimp.

"W-well…Love is…w-when…two people…care for one another…" Ryou whispered tentatively. Marik let out a chuckle.

"Tell me then, for I have seemed to have forgotten…" Smirking, Marik edged closer, one hand slowly trailing back to cup Ryou's cheek. "What does Love feel like?"

Again, Ryou blushed, but this time, he forced himself to remain calm. "…Well…Love…feels like…welll…" Laughing softly, Ryou averted his eyes to the ground shyly. "Well I guess… love feels like…when you can trust someone. When you can…rely on that one person…and trust them, depend on them…know that they are there…know that you are safe…" Blushing again, Ryou took a chance and looked up, right into Marik's eyes. "…when you are…with them…"

Still gazing at the Light, Marik nodded. His thumb softly brushed Ryou's cheeks, urging him to continue. Ryou giggled timidly.

"And…well…when I…when I'm in love…" he whispered. "…I…feel…really warm…and really…really happy…all the time…like as though, no matter what's going on, I'll always be happy, because the one I love is always there…" He hesitantly gave Marik a shy grin. "E-Even if…I'm…in pain…o-or …I'm sad….once my other is there…then…it's like…."

It just occurred to Ryou just how close his and Marik's lips were.

"….l-like…like I can do anything…" he stuttered quietly.

Suddenly, Ryou seemed as though his throat had tightened, and his heart had grown wings. Just…just one more…one more inch….!

Inhaling deeply, Ryou shivered, and stared back up at Marik, who hadn't noticed.

"…And…wh-when…they're really close to you…." Ryou blushed. "You feel…as though…you can do …anything…whether it be…the silliest of things, or the greatest of things…or even…the stupidest of things…" Inhaling again, Ryou closed his eyes. "But…it wouldn't matter…because the stupidest of things don't matter…not to your other…o-or at least…" Swallowing again, Ryou opened his eyes once more. "…not to me…"

For a while, Ryou paused, blinking nervously in attempt to describe the emotions he was feeling alive once more. Marik hadn't seemed to notice, merely staring still at into Ryou's eyes, nodding occasionally. Again, Ryou took a deep breath, his heart squealing in excitement and delight.

_Kiss the girl…_the conscience sang in a whisper. _Sha la la la…don't be scared…_

_I'm not scared…_Marik thought to himself, still staring at Ryou. _I…I've never felt…more secure in my life…_

Gently, he bent forwards a bit more, staring deep into Ryou's eyes. The poor boy was still flustering along with his description of love, but for the moment, Marik thought it to be too cute to stop it.

"…And…when you're…with…your other…" Ryou stuttered along. "You…you have…you have this….feeling…this strange feeling…you're not like yourself, because that's what Love does to you…"

_You got the mood prepared…you gotta…_

Again, Marik nodded, bending just a millimeter forward. Ryou abruptly stopped his ramble.

_…kiss the girl…_

"Shh," Marik hushed. "Do you ever…ever feel…that when you're in love…you don't want…you don't want to hide anymore…?"

Weakly, Ryou nodded.

"Y-yes…because…because you know…that your other…will always…be there…" Again, Ryou's breath hitched and he smiled weakly at Marik. "…just for you…"

_Sha la la la la la don't stop now…_

_Don't try to hide it how…_

Despite his own nervousness, Ryou closed his eyes, and raised his face slightly.

_You wanna…kiss the girl…_

For a moment, Marik smiled, before he closed his own eyes as well. Slowly, he shrank that one inch between them, and captured Ryou's lips.

_You gotta...kiss the girl._

In that instant moment, both Marik and Ryou felt their hearts soar. A sudden rush of tranquility and remembrance swirled about them, and for a moment, the wind enveloped them, and the leaves danced. That same familiarity of so long ago combined with his newest, awakening emotions made Ryou's heart flutter and beat in joy and bliss. The emotions…his heart…it was just…so much…!

Suddenly, Ryou's heart stopped.

With a silent crash, everything broke apart. The wind scattered away, and the leaves froze. The kiss was abruptly broken, and Ryou tore away from Marik, clutching at his chest.

"Ryou? Ryou!" Marik instantly grabbed Ryou's arms, steadying the boy as much as he could. "Ryou! Ryou! Are you alright!"

Eyes widening, Ryou shakily clutched at his chest. His lungs….his lungs! He could not breathe…could not breathe at all! It were as if his lungs had simply frozen in place, unable to move and unable to pump. His heart was still alive, but it was beating furiously and weakly in alarm, desperately demanding his body of air.

"Ryou! RYOU!"

Quickly, Marik swept the immobile boy into his arms, turning him around and looking directly into his face. Grimacing with intense pain, Ryou rigidly fell against Marik's chest, clutching hard to his throat. Tears welled up in Ryou's eyes.

"RYOU! RYOU!" Marik yelled. "Ryou! What's WRONG? What's wrong!"

Gasping, Ryou arched his back, his head falling back and his chest heaving desperately for air. Quickly, Marik pushed Ryou onto the ground, crawling over him and desperately gripping his shoulders. "RYOU! RYOU! SPEAK TO ME!"

Weakly, Ryou jerkily reached for Marik's wrist. Once he clasped his hand around it, Marik then realize just how much Ryou was shaking. Nearly frantic, Marik instantly snatched Ryou's hand, and held it tightly.

"Ryou! RYOU! SAY SOMETHING!"

Weakly, with all his strength, Ryou coughed. His lungs made a miserable, rasping sound, and before he could help it, a clot of blood flew from his mouth. Marik's eyes widened in horror.

For a moment, Ryou continued to make his rasping sounds, his chest heaving high and low. He quickly turned his head to the side and coughed some more, blood flecking from his lips and onto the white linen beneath him.

"Ryou? RYOU!" Worried, Marik gripped his lover's hand tighter, and ran his other hand through Ryou's hair. "Ryou? RYOU! Come on, come on…cough…cough it out…"

Rasping, Ryou sucked in a rattling breath, before coughing hoarsely onto the linen. His lungs squeaked rustily in protest, as though they were too tired to be forced into breathing again.

Biting his lip, Marik frantically tore his hand from Ryou's and began to landmark beneath Ryou's ribs. Careful not to harm his bones, Marik placed both hands on the middle of Ryou's torso, and pushed hard.

With a thick gasp, Ryou sucked in another breath, before coughing furiously onto the sheet. His pale face instantly began hot red, and his body began to shiver from the strain on his lungs. Again, Marik gave another compression, this time harder than before. More blood spewed from Ryou's mouth and the boy continued to struggle to breathe.

After about sixteen compressions, Ryou's body finally tensed. With a rusty inhalation, he hacked out the rest of his blood, his lungs finally wracked enough to start working again. After long minutes of coughing and coughing onto the sheet, Ryou finally regained his breath, and sank onto the ground.

Instantly, Marik was at Ryou's side, and picked up the Light.

"Ryou? RYOU!" Marik yelled, shaking the Light a bit. "Ryou! Ryou! Are you alright!"

Weakly, Ryou looked up. His body shuddered rigidly, and after a moment, Marik saw a trickle of crimson flow from the corner of Ryou's lips. The sick boy gave another shudder, and collapsed against Marik's chest.

"B-bring….m-me…home…Ma---rik-----ku…p-please…"

Nodding, Marik quickly wrapped the other up in the bloodied linens, bundled him into hisarms. With a sigh, Ryou gave another shudder, before his eyes fell closed.

* * *

This was a crappy chapter, but I was working on this on and off. There was so much that was supposed to happen but I just had to cut everything out. x.x

At any rate, sixteen pages for you guys. This update was for Ryousliltenshi, who's been going through some rough times lately. All the best to you, ryousliltenshi!

MERRY CHRISTMAS!


	23. Birth of the Inner Demon

Now this is Chapter Twenty Three...and Chapter Twenty Four is going to be altered next week.

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Three: Birth of the Inner Demon

Staring intently at the floor, Marik swiftly turned around and started pacing the other way. His cloak flapped tensely in the darkness of the corridor, making sharp flicking sounds whenever he turned around. Leaning against the wall was Malik, looking equally anxious and occasionally casting Marik dark looks.

They had been waiting in front of Ryou's door for a while by now. It had been a day since Ryou had his little incident with his breathing, and Isis had finally managed to find time in her busy priestess schedule to check up on him.

Bakura was not there; something that made Malik slightly disappointed and made Marik a lot more relieved.

"Will you quit pacing?" Malik snapped at Marik briskly. Marik sent his former Light an equally sharp, intense glare.

"Why aren't you worried, Light?" Marik asked sarcastically. "Aren't you worried over your precious brotherly friend, little sweet baby Ryou?"

"It's not my fault that he is like this!" Malik snapped back angrily. His lavender eyes narrowed and he folded his arms crossly. "Isis TOLD you you shouldn't have taken Ryou out!"

"Like as if you and Bakura could've done a better job," Marik sneered darkly, pacing the other way. Malik raised his head haughtily.

"At least Bakura would know how to take care of Ryou," he said coldly. Marik's eye twitched and he snapped around.

"Speaking of which, _Light_," Marik sneered, his voice forcefully calm and dripping with sarcasm, "where is your precious _Baku-chan_? Did you finally realize that I was right all along, and that he is nothing but a stupid thievery pig who doesn't give a damn about your life?"

Malik's eyes flashed dangerously and he whipped his face to glare at Marik.

"Don't you DARE say things about Bakura like that!"

"Oh, why not?" Marik sneered. He tilted his head and grinned cruelly at the other. "If he cares for you so much, where is he now? Pickpocketing in the streets and picking up women to bed?"

"Don't you DARE talk about him like that!" Malik yelled furiously. "And for your information, Bakura is busy stealing a _tomb! _He wanted to come, he wanted to see Ryou too, but he didn't come into this memory world just to deal with YOUR problems! I bet you don't even have the guts to steal from a dead pharaoh's tomb!"

"Of course I'd never steal from a tomb, it's unimaginably low," Marik said coldly. "His villainy tactics are pathetic, Light. Striking it where it is religiously uncouth is stupid, and I can't believe you are in love with him if he so blasphemous."

"He doesn't believe in the gods, I know," Malik said in a low voice, "but that doesn't mean he's a bad person! Yami destroyed his family, Marik! At least with us, we were the only ones who were caused pain because of our back!"

"Us and all of the other Ishtal males that came before us," Marik snapped bitterly. Malik's eye twitched angrily.

"Yeah, but that's nothing compared to ninety-nine villagers of Kuru Eruna!" Malik shouted. "He lost all his family, Marik! He saw them killed and slaughtered and murdered all in one night! When he was a CHILD, no less!"

"So?" Marik snorted. "It doesn't matter whether the reason behind evil is justified or not. The fact is, he's being blasphemous, challenging Yami in the most amateur way possible, and most likely not going to succeed."

"He will succeed!" Malik shouted defensively at Marik. "Just you wait and see! You couldn't even get the God Cards from Yami Yugi...!"

"Neither could Bakura, if I remember correctly," Marik sneered. "Look Malik. Your precious Baku-chan is as amateur as the next slave that comes along. He is fueled by the need for attention and evil intents. Sadly, he's far too stupid to execute an actual, successful plan of world domination!"

"He doesn't want to dominate the world, you bastard," Malik spat coldly. "And he is not fueled by attention and evil intents." Coldly, Malik raised his head, and stared haughtily at Marik. "He is fueled by justice."

Bursting out into cruel laughter, Marik threw his head back and paused in his pacing. As he watched, Malik's fists were shaking in rage, desperately attempting to control them from impaling them through Marik's nose.

"Oh, how sweet," Marik laughed cruelly. "_Justice._ How sweet. He's a bit like the pharaoh in that sense, isn't he? So protective of his worthless hikari…so intent on justice…it's rather ironic, actually. So is that why you fell in love with him? Because of his moral decency?" Chuckling spitefully, Marik shook his head, leaning against the wall. "Oh, you really cheered me up with that one, Light…"

"Shut up!" Malik shouted furiously. "SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!"

"Keep it down in there!" a sudden voice whispered angrily. Both Marik and Malik stopped momentarily, and turned their heads towards the door. Sighing exasperatedly, Isis slid out from behind the door, and softly closed it. She turned back to glare at her two brothers, her blue eyes narrowing sharply.

"In the name of Ra, can you two ever find it in your hearts to be decent to one another?" Isis scolded sharply. "There is a sick boy in the room behind me and you two don't even have the decency to keep it down!"

"He started it," Malik muttered lowly, glowering at Marik. "He was bad-talking Bakura…"

Marik scoffed. "He's bad enough to bad-talk, Light, so be quiet."

For a moment, Isis's eyes flickered to the heavens, as though threatening to roll her eyes. Sighing, she placed her hands on her hips, and glared at each brother in turn.

"I don't want any more outbursts from you two," she said firmly. "We have an extremely sick boy in bed behind me, so the least you can do is keep it down! Marik, don't talk about Bakura anymore in front of Malik. Malik, get over with it, Bakura is a challenge and you can't expect me to fawn over him as you do because of something that was not my fault. Now…"

Sighing deeply, she clasped her hands together in front of her, and stared at each brother seriously. Quickly deciding to leave the argument, Malik turned to face Isis fully, and regarded his sister with a worried glance.

"How is he, Isis?"

Sighing regretfully, Isis bowed and shook her head. Marik stiffened.

"Not well, I am afraid," she whispered. "His fever is far too high, and judging by the timeline of his illness, it is bound to get higher." Marik narrowed his eyes.

"What's wrong with his lungs, then?" he demanded. Isis's expression grew from serious to slightly worried. She paused, before answering Marik with a deep fear in her voice.

"Consumption," she whispered. "Marik…his lungs…it must have been for a while now. They are growing very weak, Marik. Very weak…"

"Hold on," Malik raised his hands and stared at Isis with a near frantic look. "Exactly…what is…consumption?"  
Isis fidgeted, looking away from her brother. "…It's an illness, Malik. What Ryou's lungs are doing is that they are having extreme difficulty breathing for him. I can't describe you in detail how it works, but Ryou's lungs are literally attacking itself. I am afraid he may have already lost quite a substantial amount of blood in his lungs. How badly was he coughing, Marik?"

"Really badly," Marik muttered numbly. "The sheet…the sheet I put under him…it was mostly all red by the time he was finished coughing."

Isis nodded worriedly. "Those drops of blood aren't from his other internal organs or bleeding. They're from his lungs. His lungs are literally eating themselves inside out."

"Can you fix it?" Malik demanded anxiously, his expression looking extremely panicked. "Can you fix it, Isis!"

Taking a deep breath, Isis winced and nodded. Purposefully directing her eyes at the wall behind her brother, she continued in a slightly wavering voice.

"Yes…Yes…I can. I can try to heal him so that his lungs can regain their cells and breathe properly for him, but…" Here, her voice wavered drastically, and she had to pause in her speech. "But…the thing is…if I perform the healing ritual, Ryou's lungs may not be the only thing that is getting healed. His fever will get even higher."

'Why is that so?" Marik demanded. "If you can heal everything, then why not continue and go heal him?" Isis shook her head.

"I could, but it'd be very risky," she explained. "A fever has to get higher before it can get better…I'm just worried that if I heal him, his fever will get higher and he might not be able to break his fever in time. I hear from Malik that Ryou's always had a difficulty breathing and sleeping when he has fevers…even if I do heal him, Ryou's lungs may still not cooperate."

"We need Bakura," Malik said instantly. His eyes grew wide and frantic. "We need Bakura. Bakura knows Ryou the most! He knows Ryou the most! He told me! Apparently Ryou used to get sick a lot when he was a kid, and he's always had a breathing problem about it, and he always gets fevers…but somehow he lived through! Bakura has to come…!"

"Shut it," Marik snarled harshly. "We do not need that petty thief. I can take care Ryou sufficiently enough."

"No you can't!" Malik burst out. "No you can't, you liar! YOU were the one who brought him outside! YOU were the one who screwed with his emotions! YOU were the one who put him out in the sun! HELL, I bet you even made your MOVES on Ryou when he was sick, you sick twisted bastard!"

"I did NOTHING of the sort!" Marik shouted angrily back at Malik. "You take that back you sniveling coward!"

"Who's the coward here!" Malik shouted back. "You just don't want Bakura to come cause you KNOW he's going to show you up! You just don't want Bakura to come because you KNOW he's going to take better care of Ryou than you are! You just don't want Bakura to come because you're _afraid _of him!"

"I am NOT afraid of that lowly, disgusting, thick-headed, pig-headed, insolent, immature sniveling BRAT AND I'M NOT LETTING HIM TOUCH RYOU!" Sharply, before Malik could say anything more, Marik turned and glared at Isis. "Fine. We'll heal him by the end of this week. I'll give him some of his pills if it makes you less worried. Is that a deal?"

Sighing tiredly, Isis closed her eyes and nodded here head. Snorting, Marik straightened, and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well?"

Wearily, Isis opened her eyes. "Well what?" she whispered.

"May I go in now?" Marik asked slowly, gesturing to the door as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. Isis sighed again. Discreetly, she glanced at Malik for a moment, who was still glaring furiously at Marik. Shoulders sagging, she wearily leaned her head back, and nodded.

"But one at a time though," Isis said suddenly. "We don't want to upset him."

Again, Marik snorted, and he promptly wrenched the door open. "That doesn't bother me."

And before Malik could protest, Marik slammed the door shut behind him.

* * *

Face set in stone, Marik stalked towards the bedside. Tucked warmly within its sheets was of course, Ryou, but he looked a lot different than the Ryou Marik had taken out to play. His face was not only an even brighter red than ever before, but the surrounding skin was sickly pale. His white hair was once again, lank and limp, and his chest was rising weakly.

Sighing darkly, Marik stalked his way towards the side of the bed. Its occupant gave a small, rigid sigh, and Marik slowly sat down next to him, nudging Ryou in the shoulder. Ryou's eyes weakly fluttered open and they traveled in daze, before settling onto Marik.

"Feeling any better?" Marik asked gruffly. Ryou gave a feeble smile.

"Better," he whispered hoarsely. Marik rolled his eyes and shook his head, turning away to the nearby table. When he turned back around, he had a cup of water in one of his hands, and a small white powdery capsule in the other.

"Here," he muttered, dumping the capsule into the water. "Drink this."

Blinking, Ryou accepted the water. He tried his best to gulp it down gracefully, though it was a rather formidable task, considering he was lying on his back and propped up by pillows. Rolling his eyes with and exaggerating sigh, Marik grabbed the cup with one hand, swiftly pushed Ryou up with the other, and pressed the cup to the other's lips.

"If this keeps up, I think I'm going to have to get a nanny for you," he muttered scathingly. "Drink." Hurriedly, Ryou rushed to oblige, and soon, he managed to swallow all of the cup's contents. When he was finished, Marik replaced the cup back on the desk, and Ryou fell back into the pillows. The Light wrinkled his nose.

"What was in that?" he asked hoarsely, coughing a bit. Marik ducked down beneath Ryou's bed and pulled out his sewing basket.

"Your medication, if you will," Marik replied shortly, reappearing with basket in hand. He placed the basket less-than-gently onto Ryou's lap, digging out one of the unfinished dolls and throwing it to Ryou. "Go. Sew. Knit. Do something girly."

Eyes twinkling, Ryou smiled and coughed again. "I'm not that girly," he smiled softly. Marik arched an eyebrow.

"I'm sure you aren't," the other drawled sardonically. "Only someone as girly as you can find such interest in something so domestic as sewing."

"Bakura's interested in it," Ryou piped up. Marik's snorted.

"Then that's just sad on his part," the Darkness said matter-of-factly. Shaking his head, Marik looked away, folding his arms over his chest and lying back against his chair. "And only someone like you can still be this happy when you're this sick."

"I…I'm not…that sick," Ryou assured feebly. Marik shot him a look.

"Don't lie to me, Ryou," Marik said warningly. "You're sick, you're weak, you're pale in the face and you're coughing blood. Tell me again that you're not sick."

"Marik, I'm fine," Ryou pressed. "I'm fine, I promise, I'm going to get better soon…"

"Isis obviously doesn't believe you," Marik muttered shortly. He looked away. Ryou quirked an eyebrow.

"Well…it doesn't really matter what Isis says," Ryou tried softly. "I'm fine, Marik…really. I'll get better."

Silence fell between them, and it was rather clear that Marik was unconvinced. Sighing in defeat, Ryou sank back into his pillows again, slowly stitching away at one of his dolls. It seemed so hard to convince Marik of anything lately…granted, Marik had always been stubborn, but this was getting somewhat ridiculous…

_I'm fine_, Ryou thought firmly to himself. _I'm fine…it's just a fever…it's just a fever…I'm going to be fine…_

For a moment, Ryou paused his stitching. Slowly, he peeked a glance at Marik, before returning to his doll.

_I'm glad he cares though…_

With another sigh, Ryou rested back against the pillows, his mind slowly flooding with the images of the day before. His heart nearly fluttered again at the idea that Marik had spent the day with him. How close they sat to one another, how softly they spoke to one another…how lightly they laughed and how sweetly they smiled…

Ryou blushed.

_How close they almost kissed…_

Cheeks burning, Ryou quickly increased the speed of his stitching, suddenly very interested in sewing as fast as possible. Despite how wonderful it made his heart feel again by thinking about it, Ryou didn't dare reminisce about the kiss. What if it meant nothing? What if it meant nothing to Marik?

Somehow, Ryou's heart doubted that the kiss had meant nothing to Marik. However, Ryou's heart couldn't explain Marik's sudden change of mood, his abrupt change in attitude. One moment he was being his normal, brusque and dark self, and the next, he was showering Ryou with affectionate descriptions and being soft and gentle.

_Like he was on the blimp…._Ryou thought sadly to himself. _He used to be really gentle on the blimp…really kind…soft…quiet…he used to smile a lot more…_

Discreetly, Ryou made a soft, mourning whine in his throat, so quiet that Marik barely heard. Arching an eyebrow, Marik titled his head to one side in confusion, wondering where the soft noise had come from. When he didn't hear it again, he straightened and returned to scowling at the wall.

Again, Ryou sighed silently, his sewing beginning to slow down. His heart was probably playing tricks on him again. Judging by Marik's more recent attitude, there was little doubt that he probably didn't even remember the kiss, much less dwell on how much it meant to Ryou. Marik... Marik was so much more different now…and sometimes, it hurt Ryou's heart to miss the times they shared on the blimp. The Marik sitting next to him seemed so dark, so brusque, so harsh and so rough that loving him seemed surreal.

And the dream that that Marik loving him _back_ was less than zip.

_Marik might still love me…_Ryou thought hopefully to himself. _He might…why else would he be so worried over me right now? Sitting next to me and bringing me out?_

A small, twisted little voice whispered in his head.

_Ah, but has he said anything yet?_ the little voice leered. _Has he said he cared for you, liked you, loved you?_

_He kissed me,_ Ryou whispered hopefully to himself. _He kissed me._

_Ah, but he also said that only wanted you for your body, remember? _the twisted little voice sneered softly. Venom dripped along its words. _That he only wanted your ass….your pretty, soft, lovable ass…and nothing more…remember?_

_It's not true…_Ryou mumbled to himself mentally. He quickly increased the speed of his stitching. _It's not true…Mariku would never actually do that…I'm sure he was just upset when we were arguing…_

_And how upset will he feel, hmn, if he finds out what you did in the dungeons, hm…? _

Ryou froze, his heart stiffening.

The little voice continued to tease him, to mock him, slowly whispering into his horrified ear and scraping those demon-clawed talons against his shoulder.

_And how 'upset' will your precious Mariku be…if he finds out that indeed, you did betray him, that indeed, you willingly gave yourself to a pack of no-good, slobbering curs that were obviously not worthy of you? How upset will Mariku be…if he finds out that you let your only, most precious possession…your ring…be taken away from you so easily? _

Ryou dropped his needle and distantly began to rub his ring finger.

_Mariku hasn't asked yet…_he assured himself. _Mariku hasn't asked…maybe he hasn't noticed…_

_Or maybe he has noticed, silly little fool…_the demon whispered. _Maybe he has noticed, but he doesn't CARE….oooh, what a bummer that will be, won't it, little thief? To know that you have suffered so miserably and even given up the only thing you could offer alone to a bunch of slobbering, beating, mangy curs, only to find out that your precious Mariku _doesn't care?

_He cares! _Ryou cried desperately to the demon. _He cares! He took me out! He took me out! HE CARES!_

_Then go tell him that you've turned into what he feared you turned into! _the demon roared. _Tell him you've turned into nothing but a common, street-way whore to save your life. Did you honestly think that if you gave up your body to them, they'd stop hurting you? That maybe they'd be pleasured enough to take mercy on you? FOOL._

_That…that's not how it happened! _Ryou argued weakly. _I didn't even want to do it in the first place…they took me against my will!_

_Ah, against your will you say, _the demon sneered. _Against your will my incorporeal ass. You splayed your soul's fluids all over the floor, little thief! You cried and begged and panted equally as hard as they did! You came equally has hard as they did! "Against my will" my ass…_

_They did!_ Ryou sobbed miserably. He dropped his needle and buried his face into his knees. _They did take me against my will! I didn't enjoy it! I would never enjoy something like that, much less without Marik! _

_And yet you cried and panted and begged and pleaded and screamed in ecstasy? _The demon laughed cruelly, loudly. _And yet you writhed and rubbed indecently like a common, alleyway whore, screaming for more, screaming for it to be done with? Haven't you have the least bit self control, little thief?_

_I…I…_ Suddenly, Ryou couldn't handle it anymore. Sniffing, he gave a soft, stifled sob into his knees. His shoulders shook. _I..I…_

The demon smirked.

_Admit it, little thief…you gave yourself to them wantonly. You hoped that maybe by giving them your body, they would be kinder on you, gentler on you. You never thought that it would also hurt your poor, precious Mariku's trust in you, did it…? And admit it, little thief…you know…if your precious Mariku were to ever find out, he'd leave you like a speck of dust and let you be devoured by those mangy curs that you gave yourself so willingly!_

_I did not! _Ryou sobbed weakly. _I did not…_

A hand gently placed itself on Ryou's shoulder, and Ryou jerked away from the touch. The demon quickly vanished into thin air, and suddenly, Ryou realized where he was.

"You know, if you don't want me to stay, you could just tell me," Marik said bitterly. He retrieved his hand. "Unlike you, I don't need to be and am not needlessly clingy. If you don't want me here, you could just tell me."

"N-Not…want…you…here?" Ryou repeated dumbly. Marik looked away bitterly and retrieved his hand.

"Isis was right," Marik spat, though he seemed to be talking to himself. "Isis was right…I should've never taken you out…I knew you didn't like it…"

"Like…like the outing, you mean?" Ryou whispered tearfully, attempting to brush away his tears.

Marik shot the other a heated look. "What else could you possibly be crying about?" he snapped venomously. "And is that what you're trying to do? Bottle up your feelings to save mine? Well, you don't have to, you know! You know perfectly well that I am a stone, cold-hearted bastard. You could've TOLD me you didn't like the outing!"

"The-…the…outing?" Ryou repeated stupidly. "No—no no, Mariku, I loved the outing, really…!"

"Don't lie," Marik snapped. "You hated the outing. Why else would you be crying the way you are now? You must've hated the outing! Of course you hated the outing…I got you sick!"

"No no no!" Ryou cried. He quickly grabbed Marik's wrist. "Marik, I loved the outing, really! Please don't doubt me on that! I loved the outing, despite the fact that I got sick! We spent so much time together and shared so much together! Please, Marik…" Sniffing, Ryou nuzzled against Marik's forearm. "…don't be mad…"

_Sucking up to him, aren't you? _The demon sneered fleetingly. Ryou gave a choked sob.

"Please…Marik…" Ryou desperately nuzzled the other. "Please don't be mad. I loved the outing…really! I just…I'm just crying over a nightmare…that's all…"

_Yeah, a real nightmare,_ the demon sneered.

Marik looked down on Ryou coldly. "A nightmare?" he repeated suspiciously. Ryou nodded, not looking up.

"I was just thinking about a nightmare, that's all, Marik," he whispered. Marik narrowed his eyes.

"So…you still liked the outing?" Marik asked lowly. Ryou nodded against his arm.

"Of course," he whispered. "And even if it made my health worse, I'd still rather go up there one more time, just to be with you."

Marik narrowed his eyes, but said nothing. For a moment, Ryou saw a flicker of lavender behind them, and held him close.

"Please don't go," Ryou whispered against his skin. "Please don't go…you know I hate it when you go…"

"And if Isis says it were to kill you to bring you back out again?" Marik snapped bitterly, ready to throw the other off. "You wouldn't go out with me then, would you? No…that'd just be stupid."

"I'd still go," Ryou whispered. Marik froze.

"What?"

"I'd still go," Ryou whispered. Marik stopped. "I trust you."

"You trust me?" Marik repeated. "Come off it. You don't trust me."

Ryou shook his head determinedly. The inner demon hissed and shrank away.

"No…I trust you," Ryou whispered firmly. "Please believe me, Marik. I trust you. I believe in you. If we were to go out again, I would, without a doubt, go with you. Regardless if it hurts me. Because I know you will take care of me."

"You're being a fool," Marik snarled. "Trust is for weaklings."

Closing his eyes, Ryou gently pressed his cheek against Marik's arm, nuzzling in almost a forlorn gesture.

"I've always been one," Ryou whispered distantly. "What difference would it make now?"  
Taken a bit aback, Marik stilled. With a low muttering rant beneath his breath, he harshly grabbed Ryou's chin, and directed the other to look up at him.

"You…trust me?" Marik asked lowly. Swallowing, Ryou nodded, his hands clasping onto Marik's wrist tenderly.

"Yes," Ryou whispered. "I trust you. No matter what anyone says or do, I will always trust you. I will always believe you."

_That's a lot less than he can do for you,_ the demon snarled. _Can he trust you, you Ra-forsaken bitch? Can he believe in you, you common alley-way whore? You're just sapping up to him, you know…just trying to lie to him so you can lie to yourself…_

_I…I'm not lying,_ Ryou thought defiantly to himself. _I…I will always trust Marik. And I know Marik will trust me back…eventually…_

The demon smirked. _Yes…eventually._

Sighing, Marik slowly sat down. For a moment, a silence crept into the room. Taking a deep breath, Ryou shifted himself so that he was lying on his side and cuddling Marik's arm. With all his effort, he forced himself not to cry, and looked up at his lover.

Shaking his head, Marik reached over and grabbed Ryou's un-finished doll. He stared at it distantly.

"Forgive me," he muttered lowly. He turned the doll this way and that, analyzing it from all angles. "Just…it's been a rough week, that's all…"

Ryou nodded, a smile widening on his tear-streaked face. "It's okay," he assured, forcing his voice to be even. "It's…it's been a rough week for all of us. You're awfully tense, Marik…maybe you should rest?"

"I'm fine," Marik muttered lowly. "You're not though…"

"I told you, I'll be fine," Ryou whispered. He finally regained control of his emotions and nervously reached out to touch Marik's bangs. He swept them aside affectionately, his fingers brushing over the glowing Eye that had dimmed somewhat. "I promise I'll be fine."

"How can you be so sure?" the other snarled bitterly. He jerked away from Ryou's fingers. "And stop pawning me, will you! Just because we spent one day out doesn't mean you can touch me and pawn me like I'm your Ra-forsaken pet! By Ra…"

Immediately, Ryou jerked his fingers back, blushing hotly as he retrieved both his hands from Marik's skin and hid him beneath his blanket. Quickly, he turned his gaze to the floor, his bangs shielding his eyes.

"Sorry," he mumbled, his voice so soft it almost cracked. "I'll…I'll stop…promise…"

Growling, Marik ran a hand through his hair, subconsciously making up for the lack of warmth when Ryou retrieved his fingers. It hadn't really been Ryou that was bothering him…but Marik sensed that he was going on the danger end towards weakness, and his body just spazzed for him.

He directed his attention to the doll, and begrudgingly, slowly placed it back in Ryou's hand beneath the blanket. Blinking, Ryou turned his eyes to look at the doll, glancing back up at Marik with a curious look in his eyes.

"Who is it?" Marik asked shortly. Ryou blushed softly and looked at the doll self-consciously. "Well?"

"Umn….ah…" Weakly, Ryou tried to hide the doll from view by flapping his blanket over it. "Umn…"

"Is it me?" asked Marik brusquely.

Ryou's face flushed red and nodded. Marik snorted and rolled his eyes.

"I don't want one of me," he said bluntly. "Make one of yourself is good enough. You always seem so unhappy that maybe if you finally made a doll out of yourself, you could actually find that you're not what everyone says you are."

Ryou looked up at Marik, eyes wide. "You…want me to make one of me?"

The other snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. "Yes."

Surprised, Ryou turned to look at his doll beneath the sheets, a clearly confused look on his face. "O-okay…if…if that's what you want…"

"Just start a new one," Marik ordered matter-of-factly. He slid his hand beneath the bedsheet and closed his fingers over Ryou's palm. "Just start a new one. I don't want you picking at this one for all its worth. Just make me a new one of yourself if you want to please me that badly."

Eyes wide, Ryou nodded slowly in understanding. Gingerly, he reached over the bed, unintentionally brushing against Marik's lap, and dropped the doll back into the basket. Marik's breath hitched.

_Someone's getting a whiff of deja-vu,_ the conscience smirked. Marik narrowed his eyes and sat back further into his chair.

_Shut up._

_Oh, but you know you love it when he does something so innocently inviting! _the conscience admonished happily. _Just by that simple touch alone, he can spark your hormones like nothing else! I can see you imagining everything now…Ryou against you, Ryou against the bed, Ryou bucking up and keening towards you, Ryou hot, flushed, pale and nude…just writhing against you, crying against you, moaning and groaning and screaming your name…_

Sighing, Marik shook his head. Quickly, he grabbed Ryou's wrists and pinned the other against the bed, glaring at Ryou as though he had done nothing wrong.

"Just…sit still," Marik muttered. "It's not good for you to be so up and about anyway."

Still looking thoroughly befuddled, Ryou nodded. He gave Marik a weak smile.

"O-okay…" he whispered. "Thanks….thanks for…being so concerned about me, Mariku."

Marik rolled his eyes and threw Ryou's wrists away from him. "I'm not concerned," he muttered to himself. Ryou pretended not to hear him and gathered up the materials to make his new doll.

_You sure that was just a nightmare, Marik?_ the conscience whispered hesitantly. _Ryou looked pretty upset…maybe you should go and talk to him about it?_

_I'm not talking to him about anything,_ Marik growled back to his conscience. The conscience narrowed his eyes worriedly and shook his head.

_Something's not right here,_ the conscience whispered. Marik glowered and looked away.

_Well, maybe like I have a sappy light-hearted conscience, maybe Ryou has a conniving demon on his shoulder, _Marik snapped sarcastically. The conscience bristled, but stopped pressing the matter. Instead, the conscience decided to jib Marik.

_Ryou trusts you!_ The conscience sang. _Aren't you overjoyed, Marik? He trusts you! Now you can be his knight in shining armor again! Doesn't that make you so happy?_

Marik merely smirked in response, but to anyone that may have been watching, it was clear, it was a happy smirk.

* * *

As the next few days progressed, Marik continued to slowly grow more open to his former lover once more. A sense of trust and love had bonded between them, and although no words had been exchanged, Marik was sure that Ryou knew how he felt.

That last day had been awfully jumpy and awkward, but Marik decided to blame it on his edginess when he had discovered of Ryou ailment. So much had gone on in such a short timeframe that the situations seemed and felt terribly awkward; as though Time had not considered that each situation considered a length of time to be properly situated. It was as though Time had no time, and just basically had crammed in every hate, rage, love, and forgiveness in Marik's heart into one, square, short timeframe.

Despite how Marik's good mood was (slowly but surely) escalating, Ryou's health was (surely but slowly) decreasing. His coughs grew stronger and bloodier, and his face grew redder and hotter with each passing day. His body grew weaker and lighter, and his mind grew more vulnerable to the voice of that evil little demon.

It had been with Ryou for a while, the little demon. Somehow, Ryou had always thought that perhaps his inner demon had just manifested as a form of a dream, but as his fever grew and his mind's barriers grew weaker, that little demon grew stronger. And unintentionally, Ryou began to listen to that little demon, and was slowly becoming more and more delusional about the life that revolved around him.

For some strange reason, Marik's conscience seemed to be most upset with Ryou's delusional state. Of course, when Marik first heard Ryou cry in his sleep, or moan fearfully, or beg pleadingly, he had naturally assumed that Ryou was having a nightmare. His conscience, however, thought otherwise.

The end of the week came, and with dread, Marik picked himself up from his room. He didn't want to go visit Ryou today…he knew Ryou hated being healed and had no intention to bring Ryou to go be healed anyway.

_Just leave it up to Isis,_ Marik muttered to himself, dressing himself. _She'll get Ryou in there one way or another._

A soft knock echoed its way from Marik's doorway. The Egyptian arched his head back and stared at the door with narrowed, warning eyes.

"Come in."

The same servant girl from before entered meekly, her long black hair swaying haphazardly in her face. Her fingers were twiddling one another, and impatiently, Marik straightened.

"What is going on?"

"Please, Master Marik," the servant girl pleaded, her eyes flashing exhaustedly. "Mistress Isis is having difficulty subduing the young slave in your room. He seems…very upset about leaving his bed."

"Surely you can just use brute force?" Marik asked flatly. The servant girl looked anxious.

"We tried that, but he's putting up a valiant fight. We don't know why he's so aggressive today…usually he's very weak and can succumb to us like that. Isis asked me to come call you, Master Marik."

For a moment, Marik stood silent, contemplating deeply. His conscience grew worried, however. After a few moments of thought, Marik finally heaved a sigh, and walked towards the door. The servant girl quickly stepped aside to let him through, bowing low.

"Tell Isis I'm coming," Marik muttered.

* * *

_Who were these people?_

_Whimpering, Ryou backed away, covering himself desperately with his bed sheet. Who were these people? What were they going to do with him? Why did they all looked so menacing and threatening?_

_Crying softly, he ducked beneath the sheets, hiding his face in his hands. His face…oh, how hot his face felt! His whole body felt as though it were radiating with heat of the most intense kind…he couldn't seem to sit still without feeling his skin burning. His lungs squeaked and inflated rustily, as though unused and weak. _

_Everything looked…felt…was…dizzy. Even though he was in bed, Ryou was sure he was ready to faint. The room …the floor…the people…so many people!…were spinning. Spinning…spinning…_

_Someone grabbed his wrist. Someone was going to take him somewhere. Ryou panicked._

_"No! No please! I don't want to go anywhere!" he begged. The stranger paid him no heed. More hands wrapped themselves around his limbs, and he was faced by a terrifying image of the last time he didn't put up a fight._

_"No! NO please! Marik! Marik! I want Marik!"_

_"Someone get my brother!" a voice demanded sternly. Ryou faltered. That voice…it seemed familiar enough…_

_A soft hand placed itself on his shoulder, and he jerked away._

_"It's okay, Ryou," the voice whispered tenderly. "Don't be afraid….it will be okay. Marik will be here soon."_

_Whimpering, Ryou peeked from beneath his sheets, though the world before him was merely a mix of yellow, tanned and gray blurs. Behind one silhouette, a shadow smirked at him, and Ryou froze._

_"So your Mariku is going to come, is he?" the demon smirked. The shadow's yellowed eyes flashed cruelly. "Better be careful, little thief…what if one of them screws you, right here, right now, at your most weakest point, and Mariku just comes striding in? Stupid little whore…"_

_Tears rolled down Ryou's cheeks as he hid away from the demon. Someone grabbed his ankles and coarse rope tightened around the limb. He gave a scream._

_"NO! NO! NO PLEASE!"_

_"Untie him this instant!" the familiar voice ordered sharply. "We will not take him by force!"_

_Take? They were going to take him somewhere? Oh please…please…please nowhere dark…cold…cruel…_

_Someone slapped him across the face, and he gave a wretched sob, coughing up flecks of blood._

_"Leave me alone, please…" he moaned pleadingly. "Please leave me alone…"_

_Mariku….I want Mariku…_

* * *

"Isis!" Marik barked. "What the hell is going on here?"

"You obviously did not tell him he was going to be healed today!" Isis yelled at Marik angrily. Marik took a step back. His disheveled priestess of a sister shot him a deadly look. "No pills, no warning that he was going to be healed…Marik, what responsibility do you think you have? None!"

"Master Marik was busy!" Arsinoe argued, quickly falling to her feet. "The slave is just being possessed, Priestess…"

"Believe me, this one is already done with being possessed," Isis snapped. "Marik, come help me this instant!"

A sharp cry cut through the air behind Isis, and immediately, three servant boys threw themselves at the bundle in the bed. Marik straightened and nearly flew at the servant boys who dared to touch his Ryou without permission.

"GET YOUR HANDS OFF HIM!"

"Release him immediately!" Isis commanded sharply. Instantly the three servant boys stepped aside, each of them looking down at their dark hands in fear and disgust.

"Oh, by Ra," Isis muttered. "Just because he is pale and sallow doesn't mean you'll be infected! By Ra…"

Shooting them each deadly look, Marik strode into the crowd. A small, shaking bundle was huddled in the middle of the bed, and Marik wasn't a fool to know who the bundle was.

Sighing, he sat down on the bed, and gently laid his hand on the bundle. Ryou's voice squeaked and began to sob in fear.

"No…no please…please don't…please don't take me away…"

"We're not going to take you away," Marik muttered. He gently tugged away at the sheets encasing the Light. "Ryou…we're just going to heal you, that's all. " He pulled away at the sheets and uncovered his Light. Ryou weakly peeked from behind his fingers.

"M-Mariku…?"

Marik gave a nod, and slowly cupped the other's burning cheek with his hand.

"Yes, I'm here," he confirmed. "Calm down, they're just going to heal you, that's all. Okay?"

Ryou gave a high-pitched whimper. His eyes flickered to just over Marik's shoulder, and as though in fear, tensed stiffly and looked away. Marik arched an eyebrow and looked over his shoulder. No one was there.

"You should be more responsible, Marik," Isis scolded, frustration lining in her voice. "If you have had told Ryou that we'd be healing him today, maybe he wouldn't have put up this much of a fight!"

"I wasn't aware he was hyperventilating _nor _was he this delusional!" Marik snapped over his shoulder. "You can hardly blame me for his state of mind right now."

"Have you given him his pills?" Isis demanded. Marik gave an exasperated and annoyed snort.

"Of course I have, you think I haven't?" he yelled over his shoulder. "He was fine the last time I visited him! He wasn't delusional or shivering or crying like this! I don't know what's scaring him! Maybe it's the commotion!"

"He wouldn't come willingly even when I asked him!" Isis argued back. "He could not even recognize me, Marik!"

"Well that's not my fault," Marik snapped. He was about to give Isis some more piece of his mind when he felt his cloak being tugged upon. He spun around and stared down beneath him.

Apparently while he had been arguing, Ryou had cuddled close behind him. His pale, trembling hand had fisted Marik's cloak protectively, like a child grabbing hold of his mother. His brown eyes were wide and staring intently at the space just over Marik's shoulder.

"Mariku c-came…Mariku came…"

"He's mad," a servant breathed. Marik raised his head towards the sky and exhaled deeply, trying to calm himself down.

"He's NOT…mad," Marik forced through his teeth. "He's merely sick."

A couple of servants shuffled nervously on their feet, clearly unconvinced. Marik shot them an intense _glare _over his shoulder, before crouching down near the bed and placing himself before Ryou's line of sight. He gave the other a soft shake on the shoulder.

"Hey. Hey. Snap out of it, okay?" He cupped Ryou's cheek and snapped his fingers before Ryou's still eyes. "We're just going to bring you to be healed, okay?"

Ryou's eyes suddenly flickered and he slowly turned his gaze to Marik. Their pupils shrank in realization as their whites grew wider in fear.

"H-heal…?" Ryou whispered. Marik nodded.

"Yes, heal," he repeated. "We're just going to bring you to be healed."

Slowly, realization dawned upon Ryou, and gradually, Ryou's flushed face slowly scrunched up and became one of fear. His eyes lowered and his lower lip trembled. Marik quickly used both hands to capture Ryou's face and directed straight in front of his.

"Is something wrong?" Marik asked clearly. Ryou whimpered and nodded weakly.

"P-please…Mariku…" Ryou lowered his head, his shoulders trembling. "Mariku…I…I'm scared…I…h-hate…being healed…it…it…" He raised his eyes pleadingly. "It hurt…"

Marik sighed and ran a hand through the other's bangs.

"Yes, I know it hurt the last time," Marik agreed. "But it's not going to hurt as much this time, I promise. We're just going to heal your lungs. And you can't feel your lungs, right?"

Ryou hesitantly lowered his eyes. "N-No…"

Marik smirked. "Then it won't hurt, right?"

The white-haired boy still looked unconvinced and weakly shook his head. Marik sighed heavily and lowered his head in attempt to control himself. However, Ryou must've noticed his frustration, and tentatively raised one of his hands to one of Marik's.

"I…I…I'm just…s-scared," Ryou whispered, very quietly, as though he was nervous that the other occupants on the room might overhear. "P-please…Mariku….I…I don't …I don't want to….please…" His dark eyes looked up at Marik imploringly, and Marik's heart tugged painfully. " …please don't make me…"

Sighing loudly, Marik shook his head. His grip on Ryou's face tightened, and he firmly forced Ryou to look up at him. The white-haired boy winced slightly at the grip of Marik's fingers, but continued to look at Marik with his pleading eyes.

"What if I come along then?" Marik asked impatiently. He gave Ryou a look. "What if I came with you? Would you be less nervous if I came?"

Ryou blinked, shying away slightly.

"…I-If…if you came…?"

Marik nodded. "Would you be willing to be healed if I went with you? Would that be alright? Then you wouldn't have to be scared. And if anyone hurts you, I'll tell them to stop. Alright?"

For a moment, Ryou looked disconcerted. Marik gave another sigh and gruffly brushed away Ryou's bangs in a some-what affectionate manner. His conscience noticed this action and gave a weak smile.

"Look, I'll be there, okay?" Marik's voice dropped to a soft whisper, one that he wasn't even aware he was capable of. "I'll be there for you, okay? I promise."

Ryou's eyes flickered again, and he looked up at Marik with wide eyes. A silent moment passed before Ryou finally spoke.

"…Promise?" he whispered. Marik smirked and nodded.

"Promise."

Still looking somewhat disconcerted, Ryou looked away. His eyes flickered once again over Marik's shoulder, and this time, Marik noticed the suppression of fear when Ryou shivered. After seemingly considering it, Ryou looked back up at Marik again, his hands gripping tightly on Marik's wrists.

"Promise you'll stay?" Ryou breathed pleadingly. "Promise you won't go?"

Marik nodded firmly and brushed Ryou's cheek affectionately.

"Promise," Marik smiled. He leaned down and gently swept Ryou's bangs away from his eyes. "Don't you trust me?"

Ryou faltered for a moment. His eyes flicked fearfully over Marik's shoulder before he finally nodded.

"Yes…yes…I trust you…"

Marik smirked. "Good." Quickly, he swept Ryou into his arms. The sick boy gave a small yelp before clutching onto Marik desperately. Shaking his head, Marik gently stroked the other's hair in attempt to comfort him, before heading towards the door. As he made his way through the throng of servants, he gave Isis a sharp, pointed glare.

"Well, _sister_?"

Huffing, Isis straightened herself, before quickly leaving the room. The servants immediately huddled after her, as though her presence could cleanse them of the demon-air that they received when they had been forced to touch Ryou. Marik rolled his eyes.

"He's not contagious you know," he snapped at a poor servant-child. The boy squeaked and hastily bowed his head, before running out the door and after Isis. Marik scoffed and was about to head out the door when Ryou whimpered. Curious, Marik paused, and looked over his shoulder at the other.

"Something wrong?" Marik inquired. Ryou gave a start and clutched closer to his former lover, whimpering softly beneath his breath.

"…. I…I'm scared…. Marik," Ryou whispered hesitantly. He slowly peeked from Marik's shoulder. "…. Promise you won't …leave me?"

Once more, Marik sighed. However, he could not deny the tears of fear that had clouded Ryou's dark pleading eyes, and with another sigh he nodded.

"I already promised that, didn't I?" he smirked, trying to cheer the other up. He gently gave Ryou a bounce, as though the other were a child. "Come on. Let's get you healed, okay? I promise you won't feel any more pain after this. Okay?"

Weakly, Ryou nodded, before burying his face back into Marik's shoulder. Smirking with relief, Marik gave the Light another pat on the head, before heading out the door.

_Little whore…_the demon mocked. _Pretty little whore…_


	24. Just As You Promised

Yes, this chapter is now finished. Woo. Now I'm working on Chapter Twnety five. Finally. Ugh.

FINALS AND MIDTERMS ARE OVER! AND I AM HAPPY! WOO FOR ME! -insert victory dance-

Read and review please! Chapter Tweny Four IS FINISHED.

And no, this isn't the death scene I mentioned in teh beginning of the story. This is just...Ryou and Marik suffering from too much exposure to the shadows, or sumthing. More sickness-delusional on Ryou's part, cause he hallucinates when he has fevers in my fic, and more so Shadows on Marik's part, becuease he's finally confronting the Shadows about his love for Ryou.

Bleargh. Please make me really happy with lots of reviews! Semester Two is starting! -blearg- (I still need to update Phantom of the Ring...) -dies-

* * *

Chapter Twenty Four: Just As You Promised

"NO! NO! Pl---"

"Ryou! Ryou I'm here," Marik quickly leaned over the other's frantic face. He hastily grabbed the other's cheek and firmly stopped Ryou from thrashing his head back and forth. "Ryou, I'm here, don't worry. I'm right here."

They had brought Ryou to same place Marik had had his initiation. Personally, Marik thought that Isis was being incredibly stupid for bringing Ryou back to such a place, but because of Ryou's tendency to thrash about a bit, Isis had thought it'd be better to use restraints in case he hurt himself.

Marik hadn't liked the arrangements one bit. He suggested that they could just hold Ryou down _if_ he went into another attack, but Isis didn't want to risk it. So in the end, Marik had no other options but to comply with Isis's suggestions. However, that didn't stop the feeling of guilt that twisted his insides when he laid eyes on the stone tablet.

He had hidden Ryou's gaze from view until he had to lay Ryou on top of the tablet. To make the experience a bit more comforting, Marik had commanded that soft sheets be placed on top of the surface and beneath Ryou so he was more comfortable. When this was done, Ryou was placed onto the stone tablet, and unfortunately, strapped down to restrain from hurting himself. Naturally, Ryou had gone into hysterics about his new arrangements.

Marik gave a soft sigh and looked away from the boy beneath him. Isis was an idiot to believe this might actually _heal _him…

Crying softly, Ryou's eyes traveled fearfully by the torches that sat high above him, before falling upon Marik. There, his eyes focused somewhat, and he closed them in terror.

"I don't want to do this," he whimpered pitifully. "Please, Marik…don't let them do this…"

"Shhh," Marik hushed. "Shhh…it's okay. I promise it'll be okay. They won't hurt you. I promise."

Again, Ryou whimpered. Despite the chains, he attempted to twist himself to the side, hoping to get as close to Marik as possible.

"C-could they at least….not use these ….things…?" Ryou whispered pleadingly. Despite himself, Marik's heart sank, knowing full well why Ryou was so distressed about being healed in such a position. He shook his head.

"Protocol," he said matter-of-factly. However, to make up for it, he gave Ryou a quick, apologetic kiss on the head. "Shhh…come on, it'll be okay, I promise. I'll be here, remember? I'll be here."

"I still don't want to," Ryou whined, tears rolling down his cheeks. "P-please…Marik…I'm scared….I'm scared…."

Nodding tiredly, Marik gathered Ryou's head and gently cradled it. The Light gave another wretched sob, trying his best to free himself of the chains that encased his limbs. Marik quickly hushed the other.

"Shhh…shh…don't do that. You know you'll only hurt yourself."

"I… I'm scared!" Ryou wailed miserably. "P-please, Mariku….please…I really don't want to be here…! Please take me home, Mariku…"

"Shh…" Marik placed a finger on the other's lips. "Shh…don't worry. It'll all be over soon, I promise. Don't you trust me?" Slowly, Marik rubbed his hands against the other's side in attempt to calm the other down. "Come on…don't you trust me?" Marik whispered.

Whimpering, Ryou weakly opened his eyes, and nodded. However, despite his answer, Marik could tell that the other wanted nothing more than to hide himself in Marik's arms. His incessant shaking proved that sufficiently enough.

Gently, Marik rubbed both of Ryou's sides in attempt to calm the other.

"Shh…shh…take a deep breath," Marik instructed. "Deep breath now, you can do it…"

"Technically, he can't," Isis muttered. Marik ignored her.

"Come on, Ryou, deep breath for me, come on…"

_I hope he's going to be okay,_ a little voice whispered nervously in the back of Marik's head. _I don't like the conditions here either…he'll be terrified, he'll be hyperventilating…_

Slowly, with Marik's help, Ryou began to calm down. Though he was still breathing with difficulty, he was gulping down deep breaths of air to calm himself, and was no longer shaking.

"Shh, that's it," Marik whispered. "It's going to be okay, it's going to be okay…"

Finally, Ryou relaxed against the cold stone tablet. His chest was still rising and falling erratically, and he was still swallowing down large gulps of air. He kept on nodding to himself in self-encouragement, and to strengthen his confidence, Marik gave the other a genuine smile. Ryou hesitantly smiled back.

"See? It's okay," Marik's smile turned into a light-hearted smirk. He gently brushed Ryou's cheek as Isis situated herself before the tablet, as per protocol. "See, it's okay…Isis is just going to start now…"

With great concentration, Isis threw her hands up to the heavens. Her eyes were resting shut as her golden headdress leaned back as she arched her neck, praying to the gods and narrowing her powers towards the Shadows. Slowly, she began to murmur her ritual, and her Sennen Necklace began to glow.

"She's just praying to the gods right now," Marik explained lowly into Ryou's ear. Ryou nodded weakly and closed his eyes, trying to even out his breathing. "And now she's trying to summon her monster from her Weiji temple…"

"Weiji temple?" Ryou whispered in a puzzled tone, trying to make conversation. Marik nodded and knelt next to Ryou against the stone tablet.

"Each priest or priestess has a Weiji temple," Marik explained, watching Isis intently as she arched her head further back and called to the heavens. "Each temple holds sealing tablets that have the Shadow creature trapped within it. Usually she doesn't need to do this ritual, but because her monster is used for healing purposes rather than battle or war, tribute to the gods is preferred."

"You-you mean, like an offering?" Ryou squeaked. Marik snorted and shook his head.

"No…it's just that, often, offerings are used to offer the gods respect," Marik continued. "Because in battle offerings would be tedious, it's excused in Shadow duels. However, when used for something of more personal purpose, then a ritual is said before the healing rite, just to offer respect to the gods."

Ryou slowly nodded his head in understanding. "O-hh…"

Marik slowly leaned his head against the stone tablet, smirking at Ryou wryly. "Of course, usually there is a sacrificial offering involved, but Isis is only going to call out Mystical Elf. Like as if that's important enough to sacrifice a lamb or sheep in your sake."

Ryou gave Marik a weak smile, appreciating the other's attempt to make him feel better. "That's good," Ryou nodded, taking another deep breath and closing his eyes. "I would hate it if an animal was killed for my sake…"

Marik chuckled and laid his hand on Ryou's forehead in an almost possessive manner.

"Kind-hearted to a fault as always," Marik chuckled lowly. Hearing Marik's laughter, Ryou's mood almost instantly perked up, and he grinned from beneath Marik's hand.

"I guess I'll always just be like that," Ryou grinned. "Old habits die hard."

Marik shook his head and playfully shook Ryou's head. Ryou giggled.

"Are you happy I'm smiling?" he asked, looking towards Marik. The Egyptian's smirk grew wider.

"At least you're not scared."

Ryou flashed the other a grin. "Why would I be scared when I have Mariku to protect me?"

Marik allowed himself a chuckle and shook his head. Ryou laughed and gently prodded the other's hand.

"Don't be so modest," Ryou giggled. "You make me happy."

"I do?" Marik arched an eyebrow and eyed the other sardonically. "I was under the impression that I brought mayhem and terror to those around me."

Ryou's eyes twinkled. "I'm just strange then."

Marik snorted and gave Ryou a whack on the forehead. The other scrunched up his nose and pouted.

"Bakura is rubbing off on you," Ryou mumbled disapprovingly, wrinkling his nose. Marik gave the other a dry look.

"That petty thief is _not _rubbing off on me," Marik said flatly. "And you didn't call him sama this time."

Slowly, Ryou grinned, and he gave Marik a sly glance. Sneakily, he nuzzled Marik's hand and gave the other a soft purr.

"Let's just keep that a secret between you and me, then," Ryou smiled. Marik's smirk grew into a carnal grin.

"I do believe Malik's rubbing off on _you_," Marik retorted.

Ryou smiled innocently. "Maaybe…" Abruptly, Ryou arched his back, and hissed suddenly.

Marik immediately snapped his features into that of a serious stature, and he quickly glanced up at Isis to see what was going on. The priestess had her arms held high, but was no longer chanting. If anything, a soft, golden glow was now evolving above Ryou's chained form, and was slowly forming into a gold silhouette of a young, blue-skinned elf.

"Shh, shh," Marik hushed. He gently stroked Ryou's bangs away from the other's face. "Isis is healing you now."

Ryou whimpered and gritted his teeth. "It-…it hurts still, Mariku…"

Marik nodded solemnly. "It's only just going to hurt a little bit, Ryou. After all, it's just your lungs…"

Ryou gave a wavering moan and turned his head to the side. "Y-yes, but …I can hardly b-breathe…"

"Tell me when you can't breathe anymore, alright?" Marik insisted. Ryou gave a weak nod.

"O-okay…."

With a soft flash, Mystical Elf finished evolving into form. Her pale blue hands were clasped together as Isis slowly drew hers together as well, and bowing her head, both Isis and Mystical Elf began to chant softly beneath their breaths. Ryou gasped sharply and arched his back.

"Hurting?" Marik inquired. Ryou tensed against the chains and nodded feebly.

"M-my…lungs…feel like…they're burning," Ryou whispered weakly. Nodding, Marik softly rested his other hand on Ryou's chest, rubbing it softly in some attempt to comfort Ryou. The white-haired boy's breathing hitched slightly.

Gradually, Ryou's form was encased in a soft, golden light. However, as peaceful healing may have seen, the healing process was a pain for Ryou to go through. His lungs felt as though they were quivering and warmed like hot plate, their soft, weak surfaces glowing with heat. His recovering bruises and passageways were also knitting themselves back together and disappearing. He exhaled shakily.

"Something wrong?" Marik whispered into Ryou's ear. Ryou closed his eyes tight and took a deep breath.

"I'm…having trouble…breathing," Ryou croaked. His throat suddenly seemed to tighten up, as though gripped by an invisible hand. It hurt to swallow his air. His lungs whined weakly in protest.

"Where?" Marik asked. Ryou grimaced as he tried to swallow his breath.

"My…t-throat," Ryou coughed. "It's…all…tight…"

"Just hold on a bit longer," Marik encouraged. Ryou arched his back and whined softly.

"C-can't…. breathe…"

Marik nodded silently and slowly stroked Ryou's hair. The white haired boy gave a weak, strangled cry, squeezing his eyes shut and arching off the tablet, his arms straining against the chains.

"Shh, calm down," Marik instructed firmly. "You'll only hurt yourself…"

"But it hurts," Ryou whined, coughing. He gave a cry of pain and arched himself again, his torso straining against the tablet as he lifted himself off. "Ahh! Marik! Marik! Marik---!"

"I'm here, I'm here," Marik said hastily. He grasped one of Ryou's arms and wrestled the writhing boy down, stroking the moist, white hair constantly to calm the other. "Calm down, Ryou…"

"It HURTS!" Ryou cried. He threw his head back and thrashed wildly. "Marik!"

By the gods…his whole body felt as though it was lit on fire. His skin pinked and tingled from the feverish heat that radiated from his body, and his lungs tightened rigidly as the glow around him grew brighter.

"Marik! It hurts! It hurts! It hurts!"

"Calm down, Ryou!" Sighing exasperatedly, Marik forced the other flat against the tablet again. "Ryou, I'm here, don't panic…"

"I can't breathe!" Ryou cried in panic. "Marik! Marik! I can't breathe! Marik! Marik!"

"Ryou!" Cursing sharply beneath his breath, Marik raised himself higher and sufficiently pinned Ryou's shoulders down to the tablet. "Ryou, calm down, damn it…"

Feeling his shoulders crushed against the tablet, Ryou gave another wail of despair. His skin began to burn with pain, his face glowing redder and redder as the glow about him grew brighter and brighter. His hair prickled and his lungs froze for a moment. Ryou gasped loudly and threw his head back.

"M-MARIK!"

"Damn it…!" Cursing again, Marik pressed harder against Ryou's shoulders, attempting to contain the frantic boy from harming himself. "Damn it, Ryou…."

Ryou gave another cry and choked wretchedly. "I-I can't…BREATHE! MARIK! MARIK! HELP---!"

His lungs twitched in response to his frantic cries, and slowly began to pulse once more with air. His throat, however, was not as cooperative, and Ryou instantly began to thrash his head from side to side, desperate to relieve the tightening around his throat. Darkness slowly swirled before his eyes.

"_Pretty little whore, pretty little thief,_" the demon voice sang in the distance. _"Sweet pretty little whore, writhing against hot hard me…"_

At this, Ryou shivered and gave another wail. His heart began to pump so loudly that he could hear it throbbing in his ears, and with another wretched sob, he squeezed his eyes shut and fought against the chains. The darkness slowly began to enclose upon him.

"_So you betrayed Marik, did you? Did he know that you were in alliance with the Thief King? Because if he did, we'd persecute him just the same…we are loyal to the pharaoh, unlike omens and vermin like you…"_

The voice was so much louder now. It wasn't deceptive as it was before, but it was harsher, crueler, colder. Ryou sobbed loudly and yanked hard against the shackles around his wrists. A smoldering pressure pressed down upon him, efficiently pinning him down. This just made Ryou more frantic.

"L-let me go! Please! Please let me go! It hurts! It hurts!"

"_The great tomb keepers are almost as well respected as the pharaoh himself! To betray the Ishtals would be betraying the Pharaoh himself…and you did that, didn't you, you little thief…?"_

Ryou cried again, and shot open his eyes. Nothing recognizable met him. No Isis, no Mystical Elf, and certainly, no Marik. Just a blur of deep caramel and dark lavender, and it was pressing hard against him, trying to restrain him, trying to contain him.

Ryou panicked again.

"No! NO! Please! Please! Please let me go! It hurts! It hurts!"

"_Just like in the dungeons, no? Just like when Marik tied you down, no? Just like when he betrayed you, when he hurt you, when he took you against your will and carved down your back like a common prisoner. He was supposed to protect you, you know, he did promise…"_

"Marik! Marik!" Ryou cried helplessly and yanked hard on the chains. His wrists strained and stung from the force he using to pull against the shackles, but he had no choice. The disoriented blur above him grunted and swore loudly, and admist all the confusion, cried out his name in exasperation.

"Ryou! Damn it, Ryou----!"

Ryou paid the voice no heed. Darkness swirled around his vision once more, circling it and twisting it like a mass of thick, mingled paint. The caramel and blond swirled into the lavender; the lavender clashed against the gold, the gold sliding against the black; before swirling about and turning dark…

For a moment, his heart froze once more, and Ryou could do nothing but stare at the ceiling in a terrified glaze. For a moment, Ryou couldn't tell if his heart had actually stopped or not, considering the last time it happened, it was because his lungs were depriving him of air…or was it just his fear, just his panic, just his terror?

Some part of him was sure it was just his terror…after all, he didn't have a weak heart, Isis said…he had…weak lungs…

"We're losing him!" someone cried out urgently. "Quickly! Every one leave!"

"What!" Another voice yelled angrily. "Isis---!"

"He's too disoriented, Marik! The commotion is too much! It will overwhelm him! His emotions are growing erratic!"

"I MUST STAY!"

"You can NOT!" the first voice countered angrily. The second voice roared furiously back.

"I AM NOT LEAVING HIM! HE NEEDS ME!"

"He does not need any more commotion than NECESSARY, MARIK!" the first voice yelled loudly. "Servants! Take my brother away! Leave just myself and Ryou alone!"

"DON'T YOU DARE ORDER ME AROUND!" the second voice bellowed. "RYOU NEEDS ME!"

"HE DOES NOT NEED ANY MORE MAYHEM THAN HE IS GETTING NOW!"

"HE IS SCARED, ISIS! I TOLD YOU NOT TO USE THIS ROOM---"

"YAMI NO MALIK ISHTAL, LEAVE THIS ROOM IMMEDIATELY!"

Suddenly, the pressure that had been across Ryou's collarbone and shoulders left abruptly, and Ryou jerked his head to the side. His disoriented vision shifted awkwardly as he blinked furiously, trying to make sense of the commotion around him. The black shadowed demon curled from beside the tablet and next to him, slowly scraping his talons down Ryou's quivering abdomen.

"_They're taking your precious Mariku away, little thief…"_

Abruptly, Ryou's vision snapped back into focus, and just barely, he recognized the servants fighting to take someone away. The man they were trying to contain was putting up a very formidable battle, but it was seven against one, he wasn't going to win---

Ryou gave a strangled cry.

"MARIK!"

Instantly, Marik's head snapped up, and for a moment, both their gazes locked upon one another. The darker one's flashed bright lavender, his expression worried and furious at the same time. With a heavy grunt, he sent one of the servant boys on his arm flying. Ryou panicked again.

"MARIK!" He furiously yanked on the chains, his heart frantically beating in fear and terror. "MARIK! MARIK! MARIK! DON'T LEAVE ME!"

With another roar, Marik threw both his arms to his side, knocking two more servants down.

"GET THE HELL OFF OF ME!"

"MARIK!"

Sobbing, Ryou threw his body against the side, hurtling his body weight against the chains incasing his wrists and ankles. Marik---they were taking Marik away! The chains cracked in protest, and Ryou's wrists and ankles screamed in pain, but it did not matter. They were taking Marik away!

"MARIK!"

Marik's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, they fleetingly met Ryou's. His breath stopped.

"Marik!" Sobbing, Ryou tried to reach out with his hand as much as possible, his fingers trembling from strain. "MARIK! MARIK! DON'T LEAVE ME!"

The fallen servant boys and girls tackled Marik once more, and he struggled to throw them off.

"DON'T LEAVE ME, MARIK!" Ryou cried. "DON'T LEAVE ME! DON'T TAKE HIM AWAY! PLEASE! MARIK! MARIK! STAY!'

"RYOU!" But he was about to be thrown out the heavy door now---there were fifteen servants straining against him. Isis cried out in exasperation and as quickly as possible, she invoked the power of her Tauk, and promptly sent a wave of magic against Marik's fighting body.

With a cry, all the servants flew against the wall and out the door. Marik, however, maintained his ground, counter-acting his sister's attack with one of his own. Meanwhile, Ryou was continually begging Marik to stay, but Marik, still worried over the wellbeing of his lover, was steadily losing the battle.

"MARIK! MARIK! DON'T LEAVE ME!"

"Ryou!" Pausing, Marik strained against Isis's attack, his eyes drifting to Ryou's. "STAY STRONG, DAMMIT!"

"MARIK!" Marik was slowly sliding out the door now, the servants still grabbing his arms and his shoulders in attempt to pull him out of the room. With another burst of energy, Isis threw one more wave of magic at Marik's crumbling defense, and with one last grunt, Marik was shoved out the door. Ryou screamed.

"MARIK! MARIK! NO! MARIK! DON'T LEAVE ME! MARIK! DON'T LEAVE ME! YOU SAID---YOU SAID--- _YOU PROMISED YOU'D STAY! MARIK---!" _

But the door slammed shut, and Marik was no longer seen. With a distraught, tortured _scream_, Ryou fought against the chains with all his might. However, his lungs and heart struck him a wave of fatigue, and with one last, tortured wail, darkness finally consumed him. With Marik gone, he had no more to strive for, no more to fight for. His hope was gone.

With a sobbing cry, Ryou collapsed onto the altar, his eyes sliding shut, and the demon smirking on his shoulder.

* * *

Although it wasn't like him, Marik was panicking. The last thing he had heard was Ryou screaming like never before, before the room was silent. With a frustrated roar, he slammed himself into the locked door, before _glaring_ at his servants. Each servant boy and girl squeaked in fright and turned away in guilt, but Marik was still raging with fury.

His Ryou. His Ryou was scared. His Ryou was petrified. His Ryou could be currently _dying._

And Marik could do nothing.

He had promised Ryou! Promised! If it hadn't been for his word that he'd protect Ryou, Ryou would have never agreed to the healing! Now he had gone back on his word, and Ryou, most likely, was frantic, scared, sobbing and in pain, without anyone to comfort him.

_I have to get to him_, Marik thought frantically. _I have to! But I have no means of getting through that door unless I summon my Ka…and if I do that, it would destroy this whole labyrinth! _

Worriedly, Marik looked up at the door, his teeth gritted. Silence came on the other end, but to Marik, that could only mean bad news.

_I have to get to him…I promised…he trusted me…_

Breathing raggedly, Marik glared at the floor in frantic thought. With a frustrated growl, he slapped his hand against his forehead, glaring at the wall intensely.

Suddenly, Marik's glare faded, and he slowly detached his hand from his forehead. In the middle of his palm, it was warm, and Marik slowly touched his forehead again. The Eye upon him glowed brightly, and Marik slowly traced the heat of it in thought.

He had no Sennen Rod, and his mind-link with Ryou was surely rusty, probably not even there…

But even if it was only for a minute, Marik had to take that chance. His Ryou could be in a coma right now, and Marik would not be at his side. Filled with newfound hope, Marik straightened his shoulders and back. Clenching his hands, he closed his eyes, and concentrated hard.

The Eye upon his forehead shone furiously.

* * *

_The light was getting smaller, the glow was getting dimmer…Crying out, Ryou stretched his hands towards the glimmer of gold that shined weakly above him, desperately trying to reach it. Wind seethed past as he continued to fall faster and faster into the dark abyss, the little light growing smaller and smaller. With an agonized cry, he threw his left arm above him, desperately straining. The wind blew harder, Ryou choked, and the light fluttered into darkness._

_The world seemed to be spinning; the shadows seemed to be leering. Their tendrils twisted maliciously into demons with sharp teeth, and sneering humans with deceptively hands. Their tendrils even curled beneath and around Ryou's waist once in a while, sliding up and down his torso in a humiliatingly gentle way. He closed his eyes and sobbed. The world got darker._

_Soon the twisted faces were accompanied by more twisted voices…laughing voices, sneering voices, hungry voice. They laughed, they sneered, they lusted and jeered at him, their voices a mix, they faces distorted. Ryou gave a wretched sob and shook his head furiously._

_Mariku won't love you…_

_Mariku will hate you…_

_No longer loved, no longer cared for…_

_You betrayed him, you betrayed him…_

_Gave yourself away, gave yourself to someone else…_

_Ryou sobbed again. He shook his head as he fell deeper and deeper into darkness. The voices laughed cruelly._

_You're nothing…_

_The voices laughed together, their chorus a fearful orchestra that shot shivers down Ryou's spine and twisted Ryou's heart. The tendrils around his torso branched out and curled around all his limbs, twisting them harshly in tune to their laughing. He sobbed and cried and thrashed as his limbs and body was twisted in unimaginable positions, as though he was a limp rubber among iron fingers. He gave a pained scream when his spine twisted unnaturally, and the laugher increased._

_But now the voices were accompanied by something else. They were accompanied by small voices, little voices, but sneering voices all the same. With growing horror, Ryou realized that they were not only the voices of the cruel men and the demon within him, but the voices of the past, when he was younger._

"_You've got icky white hair…"_

"_Ew! White hair!"_

"_What are you, a weirdo?"_

"_Betcha he's not human."_

"_Yank his hair!"_

"_Is it real? Ew! It's really actually white?"_

_Squeezing his eyes shut, Ryou twisted his heads to the side. The childish voices cried in horror and disgust._

"_Yugh! It's WHITE!"_

"_Bleck! It's so weird!"_

"_Weakling too!" a boy's voice sneered. Ryou flinched. He remembered that boy. That huge, seventh-grader, knuckle-cracking boy…_

"_So, kindergarten kid, huh?" A crack of a knuckle. "Look at his hair. Disgusting. Let's cut it off."_

_Ryou shut his eyes tighter and bit his lip. Tears trickled down his cheeks as the cold memories reawakened his mourning heart…he remembered running away from that bully, running to the bushes and hiding behind there…his sweater and collared shirt were muddy and stained when he finally came out, and even then, the bully had twisted his hair and slammed him into the wall._

_"I'm not a weakling….anymore," Ryou tried to tell to himself. He swallowed down another sob. "I'm not a weakling…no…I'm stronger now…I'm stronger now…"_

_The voices grew softer, and faded away. However, they returned once more, full throttle, more mature. Ryou flinched again, tears spilling down his cheeks._

_"How can you do this to my child, you wicked boy?"_

_"They were with you when you were playing your sick RPG game!"_

_"Why weren't YOU the one who got into a coma?"_

_"What did you do to my child, you little white-haired freak!"_

_"I lost my son because of you!"_

_"FREAK!"_

_This time, Ryou gave another agonized cry, his arms desperately straining against the tendrils of darkness so he could hid his face. It was not his fault! It hadn't been his fault! He had been possessed! IT WASN'T HIS FAULT!_

_Suddenly, a familiar, cold voice cut through the masses of everyone else, and Ryou froze. Although it had not been long since he last heard the voice, this one seemed so much different. The last time he had spoken to the voice, the voice was rougher, gruffer, but certainly…_

_…a lot kinder._

_Now it was cold, harsh, sharp and bladed, as though it could tear through his very soul. Ryou gave a frightened scream._

_"NO!"_

_"You _are _possessed, my landlord," the voice sneered coldly. "You have no meaning in this world, landlord. It _was_ your fault that they are now in eternal sleep…if it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't have been having so much fun with them…After all, I am the darker half of you…"_

_"NO!" Ryou screamed again. "LEAVE ME ALONE!"_

_"You were always weak," the cold voice sneered again. "Crying to your mother, hiding behind your little sister…now you're a pawn…my pawn…and it's all your fault that you killed your friends…"_

_"I did not kill them!"_

_"They are in eternal sleep, and they can never be revived," the voice replied smoothly. "It's good as death…"_

_Ryou choked back on his tears, and fell limp against the tendrils of darkness._

_Good as death…he was as good as dead…He was a pawn, a vessel…he hurt people, he could not stop the evil that lived within him…he was took weak…he had given his body and soul away to someone else rather than his own lover…the only one who had ever cared for him since he was a boy._

_A deep, rich voice floated somewhere among the masses of darkness, but Ryou would not listen to it. It hurt too much._

_"I will always love you, my little thief…"_

_Ryou opened his eyes, and sobbed in defeat in the darkness. "No you…no you won't…"_

_Ryou looked away, his eyes glimmering as he tried to stare at the world below him. How much farther could he fall?_

_He'll hate me when he finds out, Ryou thought to himself. He blinked back tears and coughed out a sob. _

_Everyone leaves me…_

_With a last, agonizing cry, Ryou's heart burst into tears, and he closed his eyes, sobbing in defeat. There was nothing else he could do now but wait until he hit the ground…the hard, cold ground…and die there._

_I love you so much, Marik…_

_Ryou closed his wet eyes, throwing his head back. His body grew limp, and he gave into the pain, the misery, the agony. His heart wailed in misery, before harshly bursting apart in his chest. Ryou choked back a sob._

_I love you s-so much…. Marik…_

_And so he fell, darker and darker into the abyss. The darker it went, the more pained his heart became. His body underwent much more of the darkness's torture as he fell deeper and deeper---the slashing whips, the choking hands, the sliding fingers and the crushing lips…but Ryou gave up, and let it all happen. Nobody would care if he were gone, anyways._

_Marik had left…Marik had gone, Marik hated him…he was left with nothing but darkness, as he had always been._

_But his heart still yearned, still begged to see Marik one last time._

_Ryou sobbed once more, before falling silent, his heart in tatters._

* * *

_When the world had stopped shaking and the roaring had rumbled down to a dull buzzing, Marik opened his eyes. He looked around him in haste, and was shocked to recognize the shattered remnants that had once been Ryou's soul room._

_The last time he had visited, it was sweet, and kind, and soft, very welcoming. Now its contents were at disarray, its bookshelves cracked, its bed undone, and its statues and miniatures that Marik knew Ryou had spent so hard on were crackling and crumbling. _

_Hastily, Marik bolted for the wooden door, wrenching it open. Darkness greeted him, but before he could step out, realized that there was no floor beyond the door to sustain him. All there was below the hinge of Ryou's soul room door was a deep, black, bottomless pit._

_And echoing in that deep, bottomless pit, was his Ryou's voice._

_Without any other consideration, Marik threw himself and dove into the pit. Twisted sneers and cackles screamed in pain and agony as he whistled by them, their screams whittling into silence. Childish voices cried and writhed, and even, at some point down Marik's way, a strangely familiar Darkness's voice yelled and hissed in retreat. But Marik ignored the twisted cries of the shadows, having grown used to them for so long, and continue to hurtle down the darkness._

_There. A soft, crying voice…a blob of white hair…streaking past pale, porcelain cheeks…_

_But before Marik could even blindly reach out towards Ryou, his weight suddenly dropped, and he shot straight past his lover. The white-haired boy did not even see him as he shot past, and his hands just barely grazed Ryou's fingers._

_Within an instant, Ryou was gone, and Marik was hurtling down his way faster in the darkness than he could ever thought possible. He was about to give up when he suddenly realized that he could see a floor beneath hi. Bracing himself, he raised his arms and forced his knees bent, and with surprisingly grace, landed onto his feet without harm. Instantly, he looked up towards the sky, hoping to see Ryou fall, but to his dismay, there was nothing but darkness once more._

_"We meet again, don't we, Mariku…?"_

_Marik gritted his teeth. Deep purple clouds began to trickle at his ankles, stroking them manipulatively. Marik narrowed his eyes._

_"You can't ignore me, Mariku…" the voices whispered again. Marik's eye twitched, and the clouds stroked his calves, threatening to chain his ankles to the Shadows._

_"Try me," Marik hissed to himself. The darkness laughed._

_"Silly to think that you could ignore us, Master Marik," the voices twinkled maliciously. "We, your honest, sly, cunning servants. We, your hand of darkness, your sweep of night. How can you possibly forget us?"_

_Marik cursed beneath his breath. He took a step forward into the darkness._

_"You've gotten so soft-hearted," the blackness admonished gently. "Really, now, Master Marik…fawning over a pathetic little boy? A mortal boy? While you, Master Marik, a near reincarnate of Ra himself, deserve so much more of your godly status?"_

_"I deserve him," Marik hissed to himself. "He is enough for me."_

_"Ah, but wouldn't you want more?" The purple clouds around his calves grew black, and harder. "More young, thriving mortals at your serve? More beautiful, more luscious harems in your bed? More gold, more riches, more power? A mere, mortal, pathetic boy is certainly not good enough for you…"_

_"I don't need anymore!" Marik snarled. He angrily whipped back, staring at the darkness behind him as though it were an actual embodiment. "He's ENOUGH."_

_"Oh, but he isn't worth you," the darkness persuaded. Marik growled. The voices were so deceiving, talking as though they really were caring of his wellbeing, trailing after him like timid servants in tow, piping questions softly like heartfelt companions._

_"What do you mean, he's not worth me?" Marik snarled coldly. He turned away and strode further into the darkness, away from the voices. But of course, the voices followed, since after all, he was surrounded by them. _

_"He betrayed you," the darkness said, a hint of sadness in its voice. "Betrayed you, the great Master Marik…how could anyone do that?"_

_Marik eyed the darkness warily._

_"He did NOT betray me."_

_"He began to love your rival," the darkness insisted. "He was falling in love with Bakura."_

_Marik snorted. "He's not in love with Bakura."_

_"No, maybe not now," the darkness agreed. "Now that you've tortured him so badly that he has to remain confined in bed. But imagine, Marik…if you hadn't stepped in the time you did, who could imagine what could've happened between Bakura and that mortal boy?"_

_"NOTHING would've happened between Bakura and that 'mortal boy'," Marik snarled. He angrily quickened his pace. It was futile though; the darkness still followed._

_"Are you sure, Marik?" the darkness asked deceptively. "Are you sure that the mortal boy wouldn't have fallen in love with his former darkness? After all, who knew that pathetic mortal weakling than Bakura himself? Oh, you have no idea how much we know about that mortal boy…probably more than you…"_

_"How would you know about Ryou?" Marik snapped angrily. The darkness laughed._

_"You're not the only one we serve, Marik," the darkness laughed. "We confine also in the soul of your rival. Of course, he didn't know it when he was oh-so-delusionally fighting for what he believed was justice… but you know, that's another story." The darkness laughed again, but this time, Marik heard the coldness within its voice._

_"You're trying to trick me," Marik snarled lowly. "It won't work."_

_"Of course it won't work," the darkness admonished. "We're not trying to trick you. You're just too afraid to realize the truth. Too afraid to think about the times when you saw Ryou in Bakura's arms…too afraid to think if Ryou found Bakura more attractive than you…after all, why wouldn't that mortal boy fall in love with Bakura? He was strong, he was taller, he was certainly very striking, and even had a dangerous scar to match your bad-boy aura…"_

_"He will NEVER be anything like me!" Marik yelled to the darkness. The blackness laughed once more._

_"…and most of all, he had Ryou's heart. They shared the same tragedy, they suffered the same consequences…you, of all people, had never been loved or loved your family. You, of all people, would never have to know the loss of a loved one. How could you possibly give your mortal lover the love he needs, the support he needs? But Bakura…oh, Bakura…no, he can relate with Ryou. He has the right to hold Ryou, to comfort Ryou, to tell Ryou that it's alright that their parents are gone, that their sister is gone…but YOU….You….YOU killed your own FATHER…"_

_"He was NOTHING LIKE A FATHER TO ME!" Marik bellowed. "Don't you dare play your pathetic tricks on me! I killed him, and I enjoyed it! He deserved death!"_

_"And your mother, hm?" the darkness purred. _

_Marik stopped abruptly. The darkness chuckled softly._

"_You've never met your mother, have you…? Oh yes, that's right…she died when she gave birth to YOU…"_

_"Malik gave birth to me," Marik hissed. "I'm his darkness."_

_"Oh, you were always within him since he was born," the darkness waved nonchalantly. "Who knows? Maybe your mother, who was so pure, so good-hearted, suffered and died during childbirth because of you. Because your little bubble of darkness was too strong to be overcome by her goodness. You killed your mother."_

_"I have never known my mother," Marik snarled. "I don't need her."_

_"No, no, I don't suppose you do," the darkness agreed. "You are Marik. Great, evil Master Marik. The dark reincarnate of Ra himself." The darkness laughed again. "You seem to always think that you never had any responsibilities of the pain that's suffered around you…your father's death, your mother's death, Ryou's death…"_

_"Ryou is not dead!" Marik shouted. The darkness smirked._

_"Oh, I don't know," the darkness smiled. Marik froze and clenched his fists. "He's giving up as we speak, you know. It's rather fun to play with his mind when he is so sick…it's almost amusing. He still yearns for you and mourns for you, as though he knows he's going to leave, and that you're not going to save him."_

_"Of course I'm going to save him," Marik whispered to himself. The darkness laughed loudly this time. _

_"Oh, I'm sure you will," the darkness snorted. _

_The tendrils of black and purple stroked Marik's legs and waists, gently pushing him forwards. A curtain of darkness spread apart before him, and high above, a small twinkle of light shone in the sky. It was falling though, falling ever so slowly, disappearing ever so faintly…_

"_It's your fault Malik's father's dead, you know," the darkness said coldly. "Granted, you're rather proud of that one. But it's your fault that your mother's dead, and it's your fault that Ryou is going to die."_

"_It…It's not my fault," Marik muttered. The darkness smirked, revealing invisible fanged teeth._

_"I'm sure it isn't," the darkness purred. "After all, it wasn't your fault that Ryou was beaten, scarred, and raped by your hand. And of course, it wasn't your fault that Ryou had been taken away, beaten, humiliated, and raped once more. And of course, it wasn't your fault that Ryou got sick that day when you two went out. No…nothing is your fault, Marik. Especially not while your little thief mourns over you like nothing else."_

_Marik's throat tightened. The darkness smirked and curled around him._

_"Watch him fall, Marik," the darkness whispered affectionately. "You won't need him any longer. He was just holding you back anyways. It's good he's gone." The darkness trailed a phantom of a finger along his jaw. "_We _won't need him anymore, Mariku…"_

* * *

_He wasn't sure if he was asleep or not any longer. All he wanted was to hit that hard ground and sleep forever._

_Was this what death was like? Floating and sleeping for eternity? Listening to the voices of the past strangle you and mock you and hurt you for ever? If this was death, Ryou didn't want to imagine what hell would be like._

_But even then, he supposed he deserved Hell. He had betrayed his lover, his one and only lover, and kept it a secret. The darkness was right. He was a whore._

_All he could pray for now was forgiveness and peace. Perhaps he would never even see Mariku again. But at least he had told Marik that he had enjoyed their moments together…too bad he couldn't say 'I love you' on more time._

_I hope Marik knows, Ryou thought to himself. Tears trickled down his cheeks and flew into the sky. He'll know…he always knows…I wish I could've said it…one more time though…_

_It was all wishful thinking. Ryou knew that if he did have the chance to see Marik again, he couldn't say it. Not when he knew he was unpure, and unfaithful. The words would just feel so vile on his lips, so barbed, so broken. It would be a lie to say that he was Marik's for life._

_All Ryou could do was dream, dream that they were on the blimp, that nothing had come between them. That Marik still loved him deeply, still cared for him for life, still willing to sacrifice anything for his lover. _

_He remembered their steak dinner, and remembered that Marik had not touched it. He remembered that Marik had held out a bracelet for him, and told him that it complimented his eyes. He remembered them dancing, dancing, remembered Marik teasing him, toying with him. He remembered soft lavender among hard amethyst eyes, deepening with desire and rich with love and adoration._

_Marik was a vegetarian, Ryou thought numbly to himself as he closed his eyes. Right…because Malik…and Isis…and Rishid….are vegetarians. That's why…he didn't …touch his steak… that night…_

_His mind was filled with pointless fantasies after that. Him cooking in his kitchen, making Marik some vegetarian dish with tofu and vegetables….him roasting an imitation turkey, and piling Marik's plate with mashed potatoes and carrots, peas, and gravy, all warm and hot for Christmas…he imagined himself making Marik a smoothie, for that hot summer's day, or maybe making some ice-cold lemonade…_

_He imagined Marik sitting with him at dinner, chewing the food and complimenting him for being a girly housewife. He imagined Marik sprawled on his side on the couch, watching a movie with a bowl of grapes in his hand, swallowing them one by one like a Grecian god. He imagined Marik coming home on his motorbike, and himself walking out of the front door, in white sweater, jeans, and an apron, holding his arms out to welcome Marik home._

_He imagined Marik sweeping him up and holding him close._

_He imagined Marik asking, "How was your day, my little thief?"_

_He imagined himself whispering that it was fine, that it was good to see Marik home._

_He imagined himself kissing Marik's cheek._

_And whispering "I love you."_

_Ryou wasn't sure if that was when he hit the ground._

* * *

_Even if it had been his own life, Marik wouldn't have been running so hard. He had broken away from the darkness's grip, charging forwards and running for life towards the falling pinprick of light in the sky._

_Had it truly been his fault? Had it really been him that caused Ryou his agony? _

_Marik bit his lip and pursued on. No…no…it couldn't be. If it had been all his fault, why had Ryou forgiven him so quickly? Why had Ryou acted like as if nothing had happened at all, that there was nothing wrong between them? If it had been his fault, why hadn't Ryou hated him?_

_He remembered considering the same things when he was first visiting Ryou's "Talking Time". He remembered wondering why Ryou needed him so badly, if Marik had neglected to save him when he most needed him. He remembered brushing that thought from his mind as the days wore on, preferring to enjoy Ryou's company rather than to dwell on whether or not Ryou hated him._

_But apparently…he should've. Yet apparently…he hadn't._

_Does he still love me? Marik wondered to himself as he ran. After all I've done…does he still love me?_

_Do I love him?_

_His heart wouldn't tell him, and Marik wasn't sure he wanted to know. Some caged part of him screamed that he loved Ryou more than anything else, while some angry, deranged, repressive part of him yelled, NO! YOU HATE HIM. YOU HATE HIM. HE HATES YOU._

_But …he doesn't hate me...Marik thought to himself. He summoned more adrenaline and spurted forwards. The light was slowly fading._

_I have to save him, Marik thought to himself numbly. No matter what. He trusted me when he went for his healing. He only went because I asked, because I promised. _

He did it for me.

_If he dies, it'll be my fault, Marik thought to himself. If he dies, it will only because I asked him to, because I forced him to, because I left him alone. If he dies…_

_Marik saw the light; it was shaped in a falling, thin body. Discreetly, he saw a long mane of silver hair flow towards the sky._

_He rushed forwards._

_If he dies…_

_The body was close to the ground now, just two stories away. The boy's eyes were closed, tear-streaked, and defeated. Marik summoned all his strength, and hurtled his way into the boy's path._

_One storey away…_

_Just in time, Marik held out his arms above him, and wrapped his arms around the waist of the falling boy. Warm, heavy weight crushed against him, and caring naught for anything else, he fell to the floor onto his back, cushioning his lover from his tremendous fall. The boy gasped and winced, struggling a bit, but Marik held him close as they slid across the dark floor, He wrapped his arm around the bob of white hair, holding it protectively as they skidded onto their sides, and to a stop._

_If he dies…_

_They finally stopped, and Marik released his breath. The boy upon him sobbed softly, crying helplessly in the dark. Marik held him closer and sighed a deep breath of relief, closing his eyes._

_…I would've never forgiven myself._

_Slowly, Marik pushed himself up, trying his best not to release his hold on his lover. Ryou, however, was still confused and extremely disoriented. Carefully, Marik slid onto his side, and rolled Ryou onto the ground. He anxiously gripped Ryou's cheeks, slowly brushing away the tears and the white bangs._

_Slowly, Ryou's eyes opened. At first, they were filled with fearful tears and confusion, but slowly, Ryou recognized the hand that was holding his face so protectively. Slowly, as though hardly daring to believe it, he directed his eyes to the hand, and then slowly, up to Marik's eyes._

_Ryou's eyes widened, and his mouth fell open._

_"M-Mar…Marik…?"_

_Slowly, Marik nodded, relieved that his lover was alright. Without another word, Marik wrapped both arms around Ryou's shoulders, and clutched his lover into his chest. At first, Ryou stiffened, but after a while, Ryou broke down, and tentatively wrapped his arms around Marik as well, crying softly into Marik's shoulder._

_They sat there for a while, holding one another closely. For a while, it struck Marik that they hadn't had a moment like this in so long…and despite everything that had happened, he was relieved._

_"You---you came…." Ryou cried softly. "You….came back…You left…you said…you said…"_

_"I'm here," Marik murmured. He held Ryou closer. "I'm here."_

_"Y-you….you left…" Ryou coughed and tightened his grip. "You…promised…"_

_"I promised, and I'm here," Marik murmured. He slowly broke their embrace, leaning back just enough to gaze into Ryou's eyes. He softly ran his hand against one cheek. "I'm here."_

_For a moment, Ryou was silent, but after that moment of hesitation, the white-haired boy broke down into tears, holding onto Marik for life. By now, a soft, white glow was emanating from the dark sky…Marik raised his head, and hesitantly stopped stroking Ryou's hair._

_It was time for him to leave now. He had spent too much time here fighting the Shadows. And it was time for Ryou to return._

_Reluctantly, Marik gently patted Ryou on the back. _

_"Hey…Ryou," Marik whispered. Ryou didn't raise his head, but weakly nodded to show that he was listening. "I have to go now…"_

_As expected, Ryou immediately panicked. "What? No! NO! Please Marik, don't leave, don't leave, please don't leave…."_

_"I'll be right here with you," Marik whispered. He held Ryou closer. "I have to go…but I'll be right back…I promise. You have to go too… see?" _

_He raised a finger and pointed it to the soft glow of light, which was pulsating and growing peacefully in the dark. Ryou weakly peeked over his shoulder from Marik's chest. Marik cradled him and rocked him back and forth._

"_See? There's nothing to be afraid of anymore," Marik whispered. Ryou whimpered._

"_But I….I…"_

"_It's okay," Marik whispered. He held Ryou close, and kissed the boy on the forehead. "It's okay. I'll be right here."_

_Slowly, Marik stood. Trailing with him, was Ryou, though he never once released his hold on Marik. Smiling softly, Marik took a step towards the light, with Ryou in his arms. Slowly, he stepped behind Ryou, peering over his shoulder and directing him to look at the light._

_"See? We're going home," Marik whispered. Ryou stared up at the light, blinking fearfully. Marik sighed once more, and wrapped his arms around Ryou's waist. "Trust me."_

_At this, Ryou swallowed, and he slowly nodded. Marik smiled gratefully and kissed Ryou's head once more for encouragement, and slowly retrieved his arms from Ryou's sides. Ryou whipped around once more, panicking and reaching out towards Marik. Marik shook his head._

_"I'll be right there, Ryou," Marik whispered, his voice faint. "Just walk right into it. I promise I'll be there."_

_"Please don't leave me!" Ryou cried. Marik closed his eyes and shook his head._

_"I'll be right there, Ryou," Marik whispered. His voice grew fainter. "I'll be right there."_

_Slowly, Marik disappeared, and Ryou was left with the light. The soft glow was nearly consuming all of the darkness now, and where Marik once stood was merely a shadow. Ryou bit back soft sob and turned back around._

_The soft white glow enveloped him._

* * *

When Marik opened his eyes, the servants were all looking at him strangely. From beyond the door, Mystical Elf chirruped in triumph, and in a twinkle of light, disappeared. From beyond the door, Marik could hear Isis slumping against the tablet in exhaustion, and from beyond the door, Marik could hear Ryou finally waking up.

Not caring whether Isis would approve or not, Marik yanked on the door handle so hard it broke the lock. Thankfully, Ryou was slowly waking from his unconsciousness, and didn't hear it. Ryou groaned softly, and without further ado, Marik hurried to Ryou's sides.

Immediately, the chains and shackles were removed from Ryou's limbs. As soon as he could, Marik swept Ryou from the tablet and into his arms, cradling him preciously and staring worriedly into his awakening face.

"Ryou?"

Slowly, Ryou opened his eyes. Once more, his eyes were unfocused, and twinkling with tears, but slowly, he realized who was holding him, and slowly looked up.

"M-Marik…?"

Nodding, Marik gathered Ryou closer into his arms. The younger boy's face scrunched in tears, and without further ado, Ryou threw his arms around Marik's neck, and sobbed into Marik's shirt.

"You came! You came! You promised and you left but you came back and you came you came you came!"

The boy choked back on his tears, and sank into Marik's arms. Marik himself sighed softly, and nodded his head, rubbing Ryou's back comfortingly as the boy continued to cry.

"You came….you came…"Ryou whispered. He opened his eyes once more, and gazed at Marik distantly. "You…came…"

Once more, Marik nodded his head. Ryou cried once more, but this time, they were tears of thanks.

And throughout the night, Marik stood there, next to that altar. All through the night, he held Ryou in his arms, rubbing the other's back. All through the night, even after Ryou had cried himself to sleep in Marik's arms, Marik remained next to Ryou's side, holding him, comforting him.

Just as he promised.

* * *


	25. In My Hand

Oi, sorry for making Isis's lines so jumpy and bumpy. I've been thinking along the lines of essay writing; leave me alone!

Song from the theme song of 'Air', sung by Lia. The song is called 'Tori no Uta', 'Song of the Bird.' I've had this song forever stuck in my head all week. I've always imagined Amane being cheerful enough to sing such a beautiful song. And Ryou's mother as well.

I should give Ryou's mother a Japanese name. So far, I call her "Yale," but that's her English adaptive name that I've given her. I guess it's James Bakura's way of calling her. Maybe her name should be like, Yare or something. Ya-re. Ah! I know. Who likes the name Yae? (Ya – eh) Or Yaeko? (Ya – eh- ko). I better search these definitions first… Yale apparently means an old English moor. O.o

Oh well, more research for me. Wee.

Anyways, Happy Valentines! Read and Review please!

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Five:I n My Hand (Are Wishes About to Fly)

Life was certainly getting repetitive to Bakura. Reliving the most excruciating moments in his memory world was harsh enough; but now even little moments with his yami-hikari life were getting awfully repetitive…almost tedious.

Once again, he had gotten an urgent plea from Malik, begging that Ryou needed him. Once again, Bakura swore to the gods, and once again, Bakura momentarily stopped his quest to avenge his villages to aid Ryou, and to clean up Marik's mess.

_The things I do for Malik, I swear,_ Bakura grumbled to himself as he walked through the halls of the labyrinth. _I totally better get laid for this one…_

As he approached one of the doors to his right, Bakura immediately noticed Isis and Malik walking down the other direction. He leaned against the wall, smirking as usual, and as usual, Malik quickened his pace and greeted him with a hug.

"I'm so glad you're home," Malik whispered into Bakura's chest. The thief chuckled and wrapped an arm around Malik's shoulder.

"Girly hikari," Bakura teased. "You're what, my housewife now?"

A small, half-hearted smirk twitched on Malik's lips, and he gave Bakura a lack-luster shove. Bakura chuckled again, before noticing Malik's distinct drop of enthusiasm.

"Something wrong?" Bakura asked. He slowly trailed his hand down Malik's cheek, brushing away the golden, flaxen bangs. Malik sighed and shrugged.

"Ryou and Marik again," Malik sighed. He leaned against Bakura and closed his eyes. "Sorry for bothering you so much…I know you don't like coming here too often…"

Bakura shrugged. "Whatever for you."

At this, Malik smiled, and he hugged Bakura warmly. "Thanks for coming, Bakura."

Bakura shrugged again, and watched Isis open the door. He momentarily shoved his arm between her and the doorframe, impeding her progress inside. She stilled and slowly turned her head towards him, blue eyes flashing warily. Bakura's eyes narrowed.

"As for your healing method, _Isis,_" Bakura said lowly, "suffice to say that it was rather _stupid._"

Isis's gaze on Bakura did not waver as she replied, in equal tone.

"Suffice to say that you think like my brother, and for that, your current opinion hardly counts."

Ignoring Bakura's arm, she ducked beneath it coolly, and entered the room. The door shut softly behind her. Bakura's arm fell and he rolled his eyes.

"Women. What's up with them?"

Malik sighed and shrugged. "Isis and Marik got into another argument after Ryou's healing. Isis didn't think Marik was being responsible enough to take care of Ryou properly, while Marik thought that Isis's healing techniques were stupid."

"Well, they kinda are," Bakura said, snorting. "You know what Ryou's like…"

"Yes, I know." Malik huffed and straightened, looking into Bakura's eyes. "Yes, I know what he's like when he has a fever."

"Then bringing back to the place where he was tortured and strapping him down was not exactly the best idea," Bakura retorted. He ran a hand through his hair. "How bad is his fever now?"

Malik sighed and shook his head. "It's really high. Isis said that he couldn't even recognize her when she came for his healing. He could only see Marik."

The Thief King shook his head, sighing. "That's not good."

"What do you mean?" Malik was immediately alarmed. "Is Ryou going to get worse?"

Bakura shrugged, and leaned against the wall, as though tired. "He might."

"He might?" Malik repeated. "He MIGHT?"

"Well, okay fine," Bakura snapped tiredly. "He will, okay? He's going to get worse if he's starting to forget who's who. After this, he's going to hallucinate, and after that, he's not going to be able to tell what's real and what's fake until his fever breaks. There. Happy?"

Malik gave a frustrated sigh, and slumped his shoulders. Bakura immediately noticed the other's upset body language, and apologetically cupped Malik's cheek and leaned his forehead against it.

"Sorry," Bakura mumbled. "Didn't mean to snap at you."

Looking somewhat guilty, Malik shook his head and slouched against Bakura. A sigh escaped his lips.

"I'm sorry too," Malik muttered. "I…It's been really stressing this week…we hadn't even had time to spend with each other."

Bakura snorted and ran a hand up Malik's silky tresses. "Tell me about it. Ou-_sama-yo _isn't as smart as everyone thinks he is. He's got a one-track mind, I swear. He's been back for a couple of days of his memory world and all he cares about is witnessing the origin of Duel Monsters."

Malik snorted and chuckled, nuzzling into Bakura's throat. "Well, at least we don't have one track minds," Malik smiled, slowly tracing Bakura's jaw. "…Do you think…maybe we can do something…together soon?"

At this, Bakura couldn't help but smile. Malik was right; it had been stressful that week. Perhaps it was time to finally relive moments that they've both neglected for so long.

Chuckling, Bakura slid an arm around Malik's waist, and drew him close. A small smile spread across the blonde's lips before he claimed them with Bakura's, gently soothing along the silky texture of the thief's lips. Bakura moaned softly, kissing the other gently in little pecks, before drawing Malik into a deeper, stronger kiss.

Neither of them was sure what was going on, but a moment later, Isis had opened the door with a rather large slam, breaking their embrace. Startled, both Bakura and Malik instantly broke their kiss, each glaring at Isis accusingly for breaking such a tender moment. The Priestess's eyes narrowed.

"For Osiris's sake, Malik!" she scolded. "Control yourself!"

"But we haven't kissed in so long," Malik whined. He slithered and wrapped both his arms around Bakura's neck, eyes large and pouting. Isis nearly rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"Do you two want to visit Ryou?" she asked, her hands on her hips. Bakura arched an eyebrow, although he was still looking at Isis rather accusingly. The Priestess ignored him.

"How is he?" asked Malik hesitantly.

Isis shook her head and sighed exasperatedly. "I've done all I can, Malik," she exclaimed. "There really is nothing else I can do to make him better. All we can do is wait for his fever to break."

"Anything to help ease his pain though?" asked Malik. Isis shook her head slowly.

"Other than the pills I've given Marik, no…" The priestess sighed again. "Go visit him," she ushered, looking beyond fatigued. "Hopefully he'll recognize some of you now that he's a little better…his lungs are healed now, but they're stiff from the healing. Don't make him talk unless he has to. I'm sure he's having difficulty breathing as it is."

"And his wounds?" inquired Malik, as Bakura leaned towards the door to take a peep. Isis closed her eyes.

"Most of them are healed, though I think the wound Marik bestowed on him is more than likely going to leave a scar. His legs are nearly healed, but they're extremely weak and I doubt Ryou's going to walk with them any time soon. Other than that, he just has his fever."

"Is it a high fever?" asked Malik worriedly. Isis nodded resignedly.

"I think that's his worse ailment at the moment," Isis admitted. "It's dangerous for his fever to be with him for so long. Usually fevers disappear within a week or so, but because of his wounds, his fever is taking a longer time to break."

"How will that affect him?" prompted Malik anxiously. The Priestess bit her lip in thought.

"Based on what you have told me, I doubt Ryou will heal," Isis said slowly. "Unless he is

free from stress or any other wounds, I think he just has a hair of a chance of making it. Other that, all we can do is pray."

"Isn't there something else you can do?" Malik cried. Isis shook her head helplessly.

"His fever is too high! I've tried breaking it, but it's still present! All we can hope is that Ryou will get enough sleep, rest, and food so that he can fight this fever on his own! What else do you want me to suggest?"

"Maybe tying Marik to the bed will help," Bakura cut through. Isis narrowed her eyes and

arched one eyebrow at him.

"Bakura, this is no time for any of your antics…"

"It's not an antic, Priestess," Bakura snapped, his voice coldly accenting Isis's status. "The most logical thing to do is to tie Marik to the bed."

"And why is that?" Isis asked, hands on her hips.

Bakura gave her a flat look. "Because Ryou heals faster when he's in the presence of those he loves."

"Where's the logic in that?" Isis snapped. "Ryou can't even see Marik!"

"Ryou lives on being self-sacrificial," Bakura hissed. "If he thinks Marik is there, he will fight everything and anything to make sure he lives for Marik. That is, if Marik wants him to."

Malik looked appalled. "Of course Marik will want Ryou to live!"

"Care to ask him?" Bakura asked pointedly. He waved his hand at the door. "By all means, be my guest."

Isis quickly wrapped her hand around the knob. She glared at Bakura and forced her voice to be even.

"Thank you, _Bakura,_" she said slowly, "but I think Ryou needs his rest."

"I'll be quiet," Bakura scowled, his voice on the hint of whining.

The Priestess groaned exasperatedly and shoved herself away from the door. Bakura rolled his eyes.

"Women."

This received a glare from Isis. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. The

expression on her face a look of obvious pain. Malik regarded her worriedly.

"Sister?"

"I'm fine," she assured, although she looked as though she wished for nothing more than a migraine pill. Malik tentatively placed a hand on her arm. The priestess opened one eye and gazed at her brother with something akin to confusion. Malik's lavender eyes were serious.

"Don't push yourself so hard, sister," Malik breathed seriously. He squeezed her arm softly. "Get some rest. Please?"

The Priestess analyzed Malik softly, as though unsure whether or not to take his face. A soft smile made its way on Isis's usually serious face. Gently, she laid her own hand on Malik's, and patted it gently.

"Of course I will," she whispered back. She tenderly brushed back some of Malik's bangs. "Don't worry about me, brother. I'll be fine. I promise."

Malik gazed at her warily. She smiled comfortingly, and gave Malik a kiss on the forehead.

"Go visit Ryou now," she chided. "I'm sure he'll need some good company."

Nodding, Malik turned towards the door. The Priestess smiled and turned the other way, heading down the corridor. After she had disappeared, Bakura followed after Malik, and both of them entered the room.

When they had creaked open the door, the first thing they noticed was that Marik had not acknowledged them. The former Darkness was standing next to the bed, his arms crossed over his chest, and his expression unseen.

Unsure, Malik fidgeted. He considered knocking softly, but Bakura, not accustomed at all to mannerism, nearly barged his way through and glared at Marik darkly. Marik still did not turn around.

"How is he?" asked Malik suddenly, making sure to keep his voice soft to prevent waking Ryou. He had to grab hold of Bakura's wrist to make sure that the Thief King wouldn't start a Ka rampage with Marik.

Although he responded, Marik still didn't turn around.

"He's getting better."

Bakura arched an eyebrow suspiciously, his red brown eyes lingering at the foot of Ryou's bed, which were the only part of Ryou that could be seen, as Marik was standing in front of the head of the bed. Malik 'mphf'ed in response, unsure of exactly what to say. He longed to blame Marik for Ryou's second emotional attack, but somehow, seeing Marik so subdued seemed to throw Malik off a bit. He had never seen his former Darkness so…quiet…

By this time, Bakura had refrained himself from ripping Marik apart right then and there, and was glaring deeply at Marik from his position. Sighing, Malik gently tugged Bakura towards the direction of Ryou's bed, and eventually, both of them ended up next to Marik and gazing down at Ryou.

Malik gave a disheartened sigh.

Although breathing more evenly than usual, the boy below was still radiating illness. His normally porcelain cheeks were glowing a bright, flushed red, and his normally pale skin seemed to have yellowed in hue. His white hair was a damp mess, strewn across the pillow as he struggled to maintain a peaceful sleep.

Malik gazed at Marik from the side. The Darkness still had not acknowledged them much at all, and was still staring at the boy below him. Although his eyes were narrowed in intense frustration, the Darkness's irises were distant, far away. It seemed as though he were pondering extremely deeply while internally berating himself at the same time.

Bakura finally spoke up, and his voice was certainly not as pleasant as Malik's had been.

"He sure has hell doesn't look better."

Marik's eyes flickered to Bakura sharply, but only briefly before they returned to Ryou's side.

"Not like as if you're here enough to tell," Marik retorted coldly. Bakura's eyes narrowed.

"And what exactly were you thinking when Isis told you she'd be healing him like she did?" Bakura snarled darkly. Marik didn't even flinch.

"Do you expect me to control and command everything my sister does? I had no idea that she was planning to heal Ryou where I had last destroyed his spirit."

Bakura exhaled lowly. "You should have been more responsible, bastard."

Marik's eyes glittered brightly for a moment, though he was still staring at Ryou.

"What would you have suggested, then?" he asked Bakura, forcing his voice evenly through his teeth. Bakura narrowed his eyes.

"There's nothing you really can do, Marik," the thief hissed. "I've already told you what was to be expected if you neglected Ryou any longer."

"Then tell me again," Marik retorted dryly. "Teach me again, oh great wise one." His voice dripped acidly with sarcasm.

Bakura's wrist twitched, and noticing it, Malik quickly soothed his hand over Bakura's fingers comfortingly. The thief calmed his anger down a notch.

"He's been hallucinating already, hasn't he?" Although his voice was calm, it was evidently forced. "Isis said he couldn't even recognize her."

Marik said nothing. Bakura took this as a confirmation and continued.

"After this, Ryou isn't going to get much better," Bakura said flatly. "He's already going downhill. Unless his fever breaks soon, he will be hallucinating and dreaming of nightmares."

"And when he forgets the identity of those who surround him?" asked Marik warily.

Bakura paused. He narrowed his eyes at Marik, and arched one eyebrow. It was strange enough to see Marik actually having no heart to lash out at him in murder, and stranger to see Marik so solemn about Ryou's wellbeing. Of course, this struck Bakura as extremely odd, but when Marik turned to gaze at him evenly in the eye, Bakura knew.

"You're worried he'll forget you, aren't you?" he asked quietly.

Marik instantly reverted his eyes back to the boy in the bed. Malik's shoulders sank in sympathy.

Bakura watched Marik's reaction carefully. It was not expected of to see Marik so silent. In truth, Bakura had somewhat expected that Marik would've lashed out at him defensively, snarled that of course, he cared nothing for Ryou and that he could take Bakura here and now and annihilate the world in one shot…but instead, he was silent.

Bakura narrowed his eyes and looked away. He now had to choose his words carefully. One misinterpreted word had the potential to send Marik over the edge, and when that happened, it could've meant death for Ryou.

Inwardly, the thief sighed. Why was he so attached to his host?

Regardless, something inside Bakura steered him to force the words …'courteously' from his mouth. He was not notorious for his tender moments, and even being _slightly _civil to the man who had beaten, hurt, betrayed, and nearly destroyed both the Lights made Bakura sick. It made Bakura want to spit at Marik's feet again and possibly beat him to the ground…but for Ryou's sake (and Malik's), Bakura kept his cool.

"You're worried he'll won't remember you, isn't that it?" Bakura tried to even his voice so it wouldn't sound patronizing.

Marik's eyes dulled, and he looked away, staring at the farthest wall from Ryou, Malik, or Bakura. The thief silently sighed and shook his head.

"He'll remember you, don't worry," Bakura tried in futility. He winced. The comforting words sounded so awkward and harsh and flimsy against his lips. He yearningly wanted to wash out his mouth with soap.

Marik raised his head, but once again, neither Malik nor Bakura could see the expression upon his face. When Marik finally spoke, the words from his lips sounded so soft that they were also somewhat awkward and flimsy. In fact, they were layered with a lining if defensive harshness, as though out off all the people he could protect (Ryou mostly.) Marik was mostly trying to protect his pride.

"Thanks for trying."

A couple of shoulders sagged in defeat.

* * *

_The blue curtains hung silently in the darkness of the apartment. Rubbing his eyes, Ryou __stretched a yawn, and deftly brushed his hand against the opening of the curtains. The soft __fabric was swept softly away, and Ryou's hand followed through, pushing the window open._

_Soft, golden light of sun flittered through the break in the curtains. Wide-awake now, Ryou grinned softly to himself and swung the windows wide open._

_A burst of wind greeted Ryou, sweeping the curtains in a magnificent flurry. As Ryou felt the rays of the sun basking his skin, he leaned his head back, his eyes shut in peace. The blue curtains about him swirled and fluttered with flourish, singing with him their appreciation for the spring's morning sun._

_Light glowed through the window, basking the formerly dark apartment in a soft, peaceful shade of yellow. Opening his eyes, Ryou brushed the curtains to each side, opening the window as much as he could. He then turned and proceeded to the same thing to all of the windows in his apartment._

_Pretty soon, the entire apartment was bathing in a soft, shimmering pond of yellow-gold. Ryou smiled to himself widely and made some tea, before sinking into a couch and watched the sun rise from beyond his balcony doors._

_It had been so long since he had found time to appreciate the sun all by himself. He curled his legs to himself in content, sitting comfortably in a small ball on the couch, nursing his warm cup of lemon tea in his hands. Even the grumbling of his yami did not stir him. _

_Sighing serenely to himself, Ryou leaned his head back, pretending that the rays of the sun were caressing his hair. _

* * *

"Is he dreaming?" Malik inquired curiously, watching Ryou shift his head towards the side. Marik said nothing. 

Bakura's eyes flickered for a brief moment at Ryou's form, and nodded his head.

"It's not a nightmare," Bakura said calmly. Malik looked at him hopefully.

"Is he at peace?"

Bakura shrugged. "I would suppose so. He's not thrashing about or mumbling in his sleep."

Malik gently stroked Ryou's hair. "Poor thing…"

Bakura snorted and leaned against the wall. He crossed his arms across his chest and looked away from Ryou.

Ignoring Bakura, Malik smiled gently on Ryou. Softly, he bent down and fluttered a kiss on Ryou's forehead. Marik's eyes flashed warily, but he did nothing.

"I hope you get better soon, Ryou-chan," Malik whispered. "We'll all miss you if you were gone."

"He'll get better," Marik said shortly. He sat himself down in the seat next to Ryou's bed. "Stupid Light."

"Well, you are going to take good care of him, right?" asked Malik. "Because I was wondering…if you didn't mind, maybe I could take him to Bakura's, and we could both help Ryou….Bakura knows a lot about Ryou's past, afterall…"

"And I don't?" Marik growled. Malik flinched uncertainly.

"Well…just in case if Ryou's…dreaming about something more…family-oriented, I think it might be better if Bakura takes care of him."

"And what family-orientated things would that be?" asked Marik sarcastically.

Malik fidgeted uncomfortably.

Bakura snorted softly to himself and looked away. A soft breeze fluttered by him, and distinctively, he stiffened. Perhaps he was just going insane, but he could've sworn that the breeze had carried the voice of a very familiar one…

Bakura's eyes darkened. The spirits of Kuru Eruna were not exactly the happiest of people, nor the most peaceful of people. But this breeze…this presence…somehow, it calmed Bakura's heart, and Bakura was wary of its presence in such an unknown situation.

In the distance, Bakura heard Malik say, "Well…you know…..family oriented stuff, Marik…"

Marik snorted. "Family…."

The breeze sang softly in Bakura's ear.

"Who the hell needs family?"

The breeze's breath washed Bakura's cheek.

"So what if Bakura can relate…"

Bakura's eyes widened.

"…how's it going to help Ryou…?"

Bakura stiffened so rigidly that he could've snapped. He slowly turned his head to glare at Marik.

The breeze sang.

"_kodomotachi wa natsu no senro aruku,_

_fuku kaze ni suashi wo sarashite_

_tooku ni wa osanakatta hibi wo_

_ryoute ni wa tobidatsu kibou wo."_

Bakura blinked. He scowled and turned away. Marik glared at him haughtily.

"What the hell was that?"

Bakura snorted in disgust. "Nothing."

"Is it one of your stupid occult crap?" Marik demanded. Bakura's eyes flared.

"You know the language, idiot. You should know what it means."

"And what does it mean?" asked Malik curiously. He looked at Bakura curiously. "What was that?"

Bakura raised a hand and self-consciously rubbed his scar. In the distance, he heard Amane singing, her voice floating so cheerfully as her perfect, Japanese accent bounced about the room.

"The children walk on the railway in summer," Bakura recalled slowly,

"…exposing their bare feet to the blowing wind,

So far away are my childhood days,

In my hands are wishes about to fly."

The breeze swept around Bakura proudly, before lifting.

* * *

_Ryou turned his head to the side. He smiled warmly as the sun rose even higher. The breeze that had fluttered through his window curled contently around him, as though its air was a spirit itself. Ryou sighed to himself and shook his head. He had always had a strange sixth sense about spirits…perhaps that was why Bakura was so attracted to him…spirit-vessel-command-host-wise._

_Ryou remembered how soft his sister's presence had been. For the first time ever, Ryou was amazed that his remembrance of his sister did not weigh his heart with guilt and shame. Usually he blamed himself for Amane's death, but this time, he almost appreciated the presence of his sister's memory…as though Amane was sitting there next to him herself._

_Ryou lifted his head, and recalled Amane's beautiful, crisp voice. He remembered how his mother would clap and encourage Amane to continue singing, how Amane would twirl in the crisp breeze of a English spring day, how she would dance with her arms towards the skies._

_Ryou smiled to himself, a swell of tears welling in his eyes. He did not let them fall though._

_"Kieru Hikoukigumo….oikakete oikakete…"_

_He lifted his head once more._

_"We watched the plane depart…we kept chasing and chasing…"_

_The tea in his cup shimmered._

_"Since that day we've crossed this hill_

_In order to make it straight…_

_We will always have kept that strength…"_

_He pressed his lips to the top the cup._

_"Watatsumi no youna….tsuyosa wo mamoreru…yo…kitto."_

* * *

Marik scowled at Bakura as though the other were stupid. "Don't disrupt us with your pathetic occult crap, thief." 

Bakura snorted coldly. "It's sad that you can't appreciate Ryou's life like it is."

"And what the hell does that mean?"

Bakura's eyes slowly brightened menacingly.

"Betcha he's singing that same song in his head right now."

Bakura stuffed his hand in his pocket, and when he retrieved his hand, he was grasping a deep, rich amethyst stone. A coarse leather strap hung from it, intended to be clasped around a throat, wrist, or ankle. He flung it at Marik.

"Here, take it," Bakura snapped. "You should be grateful that I would go through so much trouble to make sure that you will take care of Ryou well. Do you honestly think I'd want to be burdened by him? _You're_ his lover."

Marik caught the necklace deftly. He analyzed it critically before raising his eyes to meet Bakura's. The thief's eyes were a dangerous red.

"Take it," Bakura said again. "It holds most of Ryou's memories that I had transferred from my own experiences. "

"And how the bloody hell does this work?" Marik raised the gem and rolled it in his fingers skeptically. He could sense a familiar dark presence about it.

"Yes, it's Shadow Magic," Bakura retorted. "If you put it on, it will strengthen your link with Ryou that you made with your Rod. When you wear it or activate it, the Shadows will present to you any memories that you'd want to see."

"I'm wary of your makings, thief," Marik retorted. "How do I know this isn't a trick to get me overwhelmed by the Shadows themselves? That you mean to trap me?"

Bakura shrugged. "That's up to you to decide. But if you truly want to take care of Ryou, you'd take that chance. And plus," Bakura grinned wickedly, baring one fang. "You're the master of the Shadows, are you not? You should be able to control them."

Marik scowled at Bakura so darkly that it seemed as though Marik's whole face had darkened. Cursing the thief, Marik promptly tied the thing around his wrist, making sure that he could see it in plain view. He held his wrist out and brandished it at Bakura.

"There. It's on. Happy now?"

Bakura grinned wickedly and turned away.

* * *

_A soft knock interrupted Ryou. Blinking curiously, he stood up from his couch and headed towards the front door. The knock genuinely surprised Ryou…in fact, it somewhat scared him. No one ever came to his place. Never._

_Nervous, he took a deep breath, hoping that he couldn't sound too contrived when he asked, "Who's there?"_

_The person on the other side of the door said nothing. Ryou fidgeted and slowly slid the bolt open. He opened the door a crack and peeked through._

_"May I help…"_

_His eyes widened. The man on the other side of the door nervously averted his blue eyes and sheepishly scratched the back of his long hair. An archeologist's hat sat on his head, his hair in a ponytail behind the nape of his neck. The features may not have been easily recognizable, but both his and Ryou's blush were identical._

_They even had the same hesitant, sheepish, shy glance._

_James Bakura raised his head. Ryou gaped._

_"Dad…?"_

* * *

_With all his heart, Ryou hoped that Bakura would not bother him. The last thing he wanted was to go rampage on his own father…especially for the first time since Mother and Amane had died._

_James Bakura sat nervously in his kitchen seat, watching his son bustle about the cabinets, searching for another cup for some more tea. His heart twinged as he saw his …son…flourish about the kitchen like so…his long white hair, his large, effeminate eyes…when James first saw him through the crack in the door, he could've sworn he saw his wife behind those doors._

_But now that James finally had a decent look, he noticed that…the boy in front of him not only resembled his mother, but now held some features of James himself. Still effeminate, Ryou's shoulders held a bit like James' did…quiet, shy, distant. His stance was almost like James's as well…Yale had been very curvaceous, very delicate, very elegant. As much as Ryou was all that, he had that boyish tinge to everything he did…the same dull, blank, boyish tinge that James used to do when he was a teen._

_James fidgeted nervously again. He averted his eyes when Ryou placed a mug of tea before him, and sat himself across from James. James was about to lose his courage and just leave, but Ryou's soft voice…almost like Yale's soft voice…startled him._

_"What are you doing here, Dad?"_

_James widened his eyes. After all these years, Ryou still called him 'Dad'?_

_James cleared his throat. "They said I was working too hard…they told me to retire for a while."_

_Ryou nodded softly. "Oh." His eyes looked up at James again. "Well…you didn't have to come home…you could've traveled a bit, if you wanted…"_

_James was incredulous. He raised his head and looked at Ryou unsure. The boy before him was blushing shyly, but his eyes held the same brightness that James had fallen in love with._

_"Well…I just…thought I'd…drop by," James mumbled. The bridge of his nose turned pink. Ryou smiled tentatively._

_"Well…that's great that you've come," Ryou said softly. His eyes diverted back to his cup. "I…I missed you. It's…wonderful to see you again…otoou-san…"_

_James flinched. Ryou immediately turned bright red and quickly stood, nearly spilling his tea._

_"I…I'm sorry," Ryou mumbled, his bangs hiding his eyes. "I…I'm sorry…I didn't mean…"_

_He cleared his wavering tone and quickly pushed his chair in. "Excuse me…"_

_Before James could stop him, his son quickly disappeared out of the kitchen._

* * *

_An hour later, James still had not left. As much as he wanted to, the emptiness of the apartment overwhelmed him. There was still a master bedroom for him, still a piano in the corner…still the pictures in his room of his excavations._

_But everything else…everything else that was Ryou's…was blank. There was nothing left. Even Monster World, the game that James had forgotten Ryou loved so much, had been put away. Despite his guilt, James even somewhat hoped that Ryou had kept the ouija board that James had carved for him so long ago…but even that was not in sight._

_He wanted to walk away so much, wanted run away from the son whom reminded him too much of his wife and daughter…he wanted to wallow in his loneliness again, but…_

_Yale had loved Ryou so much…James remembered watching her cradle him, a small little boy, in her arms, sing to him songs and lullabies that James never heard of. He remembered how when Ryou cried and would not stop crying, Yale would hold him tight to her, and silently cry with him. He remembered her long, white curls, being tugged upon by Ryou's little baby hands, his eyes wide in wonder as he brought the strands to his eyes and stared at them curiously. _

_Yale had loved Ryou so much…James was sure that she would've died to save Ryou from any harm._

_James shifted uncomfortably on his feet. Yale…what would Yale have thought, if she saw him neglecting her favorite son? How Yale would be so disappointed in him if she knew that in his heart, he ran away from his son, the pain of seeing him so great that James was afraid? That James was too selfish to wallow in his own misery that he left his son at the age of nine and never came back ever?_

_That James even, at some point in his life, blamed Ryou for being the only survivor in that car crash…_

_James felt as though he could've cried. He wanted to have his wife and daughter back so badly… the loss was too great… why couldn't he have lost Ryou as well, so that his torment could've been completed?_

_A soft violin played in the distance. James wanted to cry. It was Ryou's violin, he knew it…the violin he gave to his son when he was three…_

_Yale would've hated him, James was sure. His son was going to be a man the next year…going to Oxford as one of Japan's top students, going to go to the home where James had kept him away from, in the prison that had been his wife's memory…_

_And James would never see him again…_

_Silently, James knocked on Ryou's door, and opened it a crack. The violin's strings abruptly stopped in a halfhearted squeak, and James peered through the crack in the door. Ryou was sitting on his bed, the violin in his hand, and the Sennen Ring on his chest._

_James was struck with guilt once more. His son loved him so much that up until now, Ryou would always wear that scary, bulky thing?_

_James opened the door wider and nervously stepped in. "Hey…could I…come in?"_

_Even his English accent was identical to Ryou's._

_Ryou nervously nodded his head, and for once, James saw the clarity of loneliness in his son's eyes. They were emotional, like Yale's, distant, like Yale's. But Ryou…his eyes shone memories of darkness that James was sure he caused, and dared not tread again._

_He gently shut the door and slowly sat himself on Ryou's bed. He smiled weakly at the violin in Ryou's arms._

_"You…still play really nicely," James said weakly. Ryou looked away and tucked the violin underneath his bed with shaking hands._

_"…I…I'm sorry," Ryou mumbled softly. James heard the wavering, tearful tone, and his heart twanged again._

_"It's okay," James lied. Ryou would not look up._

_"I'm sorry…it…it was habit," Ryou mumbled. "I…I've been living in Japan for so long…it…it rubbed of…I'm sorry…"_

_James fidgeted again. "Well…don't be…you…you could call me otoou….otoou-san if you want…" He forced out the word, some part of him in misery at the remembrance of his daughter, and some part of him hating Ryou for tarnishing what memory of the daughter he once had. Only Amane had called him byhisJapanese title. Ryou apparently, felt this, and did not reply. James sighed._

_"Well…um…." He took a deep breath and saw a tear course down Ryou's cheek. Immediately, James was alarmed. Never before had he made his son cry. Ryou sniffled and shook his head._

_James was alarmed, and for the first time in a decade and a half, he was concerned. Oh crap…he made his son cry! He made Yale's son cry!_

_"Hey…come on," James tried in futility. "It's okay…really…I… I'm sorry I came, I shouldn't…I shouldn't have just popped that on you…" He unsurely laid a foreign hand on Ryou's shoulders. "Hey…come on…don't…don't cry…"_

_Ryou's shoulders shook in silence, and James grew increasingly worried. He made Yale's son cry! _

_James winced. "Oh come now…don't cry…you're a boy, a man…you…" James winced, remembering that he too, was a boy, a man, and that he had cried equally hard for his wife and daughter. It then struck him that Ryou must've cried too, someone as emotional as Yale was…and yet, he had never seen Ryou cry._

_His son was stronger than him. Instead of father caring son, James realized that coming home, his son was actually caring him._

_"Oh…come on…don't cry…" He unsurely patted Ryou's shoulder. "Come on…I…I…" James gave up helplessly. "Come on, Ryou…"_

_The son before him continued to sob quietly. As a last ditch attempt, James wrapped his arms around Ryou's shoulders._

_The boy momentarily stilled, and James was wondering how his body could've down something without his mind's consent. He hadn't held his son in so long…in fact, he couldn't even remember holding his son at all. Yale was always the one…he was always holding Amane…_

_James desperately wanted to bring up the idea of his wife, knowing now that Ryou must've suffered through more than he did. At least, James knew he had a son somewhere on the other side of the world…Ryou, to Ryou, at age nine, losing a father to an archeology dig was equally as bad as losing a father in a car crash._

_James found himself petting Ryou's hair, trying his best to imitate his wife. Ryou's shoulders shook once more, and James bit his lip._

_"You're graduating this year, right?" James asked. Ryou nodded weakly. James fidgeted again. "Well…I…I won't be excavating for…another year….would you want me to come…for your graduation?"_

_Ryou momentarily stilled. From his shirt, James could feel Ryou's mouth gaping open in surprise. He looked up to the sky, imagining that his wife was looking down upon him, nodding her head in encouragement. He imagined that Amane shot him a thumbs up, grinning as he continued to hold his son like an actual father._

_Smiling despite his wounded heart, James pulled away from his son. He raised his son's face and looked at Ryou in the eye, although the boy looked away. James brushed a bang away._

_"You look just like your mother, do you know?" James asked softly. _

_you's eyes flickered and more tears swelled in his eyes, but James decided that this was the time to finally overcome what he and Ryou had been running from._

_"I look at you," James said seriously, "and I see your mother. Your eyes are just like hers. You hair is just like hers. Your skin and even the way you talk…are like her." James closed his eyes in a pained way, trying to control himself so he wouldn't cry in front of his own son. "But…you are like me…too…" James grinned at Ryou weakly. "You play the violin like I do, and you even blush the way I used to when I was your age. But your strength…" _

_James tucked a lock of white hair over Ryou's ear._

_"…is like your mother's."_

_Ryou's eyes flickered and glowed, and unintentionally, he raised them to meet James in an incredulous, gaping look. James's weak smile grew stronger._

_"I know I've been a….bad father," James admitted, "…but if it does make you feel any better….I see you now and I…I'm proud of you." James patted his son on the head. "And…if you want me to…I'll be there for your graduation."_

_Ryou's eyes widened, if possible, even more. _

_"Promise?" Ryou whispered. "Will you really, Dad?"_

_Once again, James felt that pang of pain in his heart, but he nodded. Somewhere in the heavens, he was sure that Yale and Amane would've been proud to finally see him muster up the strength to care for his son…even it was a late, and pathetic start._

_But it was a start none of the less._

_He nodded his head and embraced his son awkwardly, as a father would. Even though he had not seen his father in so long, Ryou sank in James's awkward embrace, and cried silently against his father. James patted his son on the back. _

_"I promise…"_

_He held Ryou closer, and for a moment, he could even smell the former scent of Yale upon her son. _

_"…my son."_

* * *

"Take care of Ryou, okay?" Malik asked urgently to Marik. The darker Egyptian scowled darkly. 

"I will, I will."

"Great." Bakura grabbed Malik hand and headed for the door. "Come then, Malik. The night's still young."

"But, I didn't say goodbye to Ryou!" Malik protested almost already out the door.

They had been standing by the doorframe for a while now, prepared to leave. Malik was about t finish his goodbyes when Bakura snatched his hand and tried to stalk out of the door. Marik couldn't care less, either way.

"Take care of him for me!" Malik called, as he was nearly dragged out the door. "Use the thingy Baku gave you!"

"I won't need it," Marik snarled. He stared at the sharp, angular gem critically on his wrist.

Bakura had already disappeared, and Malik was just about to be pulled out of sight. He gave one last wave and disappeared.

"Tell me if anything goes wrong, Marik!"

And with that, they were gone.

* * *

_The day was dark, and gloomy. Normally, Domino wasn't this dark and dreary, but Ryou supposed it was for the sake of the mood. He stared at the new tombstone, the coffin before him encasing the last of the only relatives he had._

_The newly dug rectangular hole was ready for its occupant. Its sides were damp form the rain, the grass thriving and hungry to decompose the one within the coffin._

_Ryou lowered his head and stared at his black gloves. His black pants, his black suit, the black ribbon that tied his hair in a ponytail like his father's. A priest stood next to the tombstone, his balding hair wet from the rain and his heavy English accent depicting the journey Ryou's father was expected to take._

_He had graduated with high honors, sure. He had graduated with one of the world's biggest scholarships. He had the girls in the front row squealing for him, the dean's handshake, and even plaques depicting his success._

_But he didn't have his father there._

_Strangely enough, Ryou didn't cry a lot for this funeral. He supposed that he had mostly shed nearly all his tears on the initial shock when he received the call from the hospital, stating that his father had been in an extreme accident and was not likely going to survive. Ryou had done everything he could to help his father, but his father had been in Arabia, on his 'last trip' with the English Archeology Council. _

_'I'll be back,' his father had said. 'I promised I'd be there for grad, right?'_

_Ryou looked at the floor, not even realizing that the priest had finished and that the workers were already lowering the casket into the hole. Ryou hadn't had the courage to open the thing. His father had been in an extreme accident…to be truthful, Ryou wasn't even sure if his father's face was even remotely intact any longer._

_Strangely enough, Bakura did not spite him for his loss. In fact, the Sennen Ring hung limply beneath his shirt, as though it had nothing to say._

_'You broke your promise again,' Ryou thought to himself a he heard the sound of scraping dirt and metal. He raised his head and his eyes drifted to all the other tombstones next to his father's…Amane's…and Mother's._

_When the casket had been fully buried, Ryou placed a bouquet of roses on his mother's grave, a bouquet of buttercups on his sister's, and a bouquet of lilies for his father's. Ryou didn't want to think about who'd be there when he was buried next to all of them. Probably no one. He was the only one for today's funeral, anyway._

_The priest cleared his throat and returned his glasses to his pocket. He coughed and shook his great head, as though relieving himself of heartburn. He looked at Ryou but said nothing in respect to Ryou's mourning._

_Feeling that pitying gaze, Ryou straightened to his feet. He wished he could've said something meaningful, some wondrous speech about his father, but nothing came to mind. All he could be thankful for was that he saw his father one more time, but this time, Ryou was sure that he would never hope again._

_Everyone was gone._

_Mother, Amane, Father…_

_Marik…_

_Ryou's heart ached and a tear rolled down his face. Marik… that loss had been the worse for Ryou. _

_He quickly wiped that tear with his gloved hand, and turned away from the priest. His heart ached and his shoulders slumped, but Ryou did not care. What else had he had to live for?_

_Ryou walked away from the cemetery._

* * *

Sensing Ryou stirring, Marik stepped back and returned to the bedside. Finally. Malik and Bakura were gone, which meant he could spend some decent time with Ryou. Although Marik wasn't exactly the most sensitive person alive, he wanted to at least make sure Ryou was emotionally well after all the trauma he had been through. 

Marik recalled the shadows and their deceptive manipulation. He had nearly lost Ryou that time, and he was certain that it would never happen again. Love or no love, Marik could not let Ryou die, no matter what the circumstances.

_Unless you hate him_, the shadows whispered in Marik's ear. _Unless you want more than what you have now…he hates you, Marik. He fears you. He lies to you…_

Quickly, Marik shut out the demonic voices that tickled his ears and watched Ryou awaken. The boy slowly opened his eyes, blinking tears away, his face in the expression of utter defeat and misery.

Marik looked down up Ryou with concern.

"Are you alright?"

It took Ryou a moment to realize who was talking to him, and when he finally recognized Marik's features, he nodded weakly. Frowning, Marik pressed his wrist against Ryou's forehead, noting the increase in heat. When Ryou spoke, Marik immediately noted the wavering, thick voice.

"You…came back…for me…"

Marik momentarily paused in his ministrations, and averted his eyes downward to meet Ryou's. Although Ryou looked too weak to smile, his eyes glimmered with tears of thanks, of appreciation. Marik slid a hand beneath the covers and grasped Ryou's hand.

"Yeah…yeah I did."

Ryou's eyes glimmered again, and he summoned all his strength for a smile. Marik responded with a wry smirk of his own, and brushed away a bang from Ryou's eyes affectionately.

"I promised, didn't I?"

Ryou's deep, chocolate eyes brimmed with tears, but Marik wasn't sure if they were tears of thanks, happiness, or mourning misery.

"Yeah…" Ryou whispered distantly. "You promised…"

With a soft sigh, Ryou's eyes fell shut. A drop of tear escaped when his eyelids fell, and trickled down his cheek. His lips were in a soft, slightly parted position, and Marik could hear the younger own taking deep breaths from his lips.

Marik brushed the tear away. The white-haired boy nuzzled Marik's hand weakly, his expression falling sleepier and sleepier.

"Are you breathing better?" Marik asked softly, not wanting to disturb Ryou now. The white-haired boy nodded slightly.

"A…bit better…"

"And your fever?" Marik whispered. He brushed Ryou's bangs away slowly, tucking them behind Ryou's hair. Ryou winced slowly, as though such a simple response took a great deal of strength.

"…I…feel…" Ryou winced again, just as slowly as last time. "…so tired…"

"Hot?" Marik guessed. Ryou nodded a fraction, his head twitching somewhat as he fought to control his body from the ailment.

"H-hot….tired…" Ryou sucked in a slow, uneven breath. "…can barely….move…"

"Your legs are healed now," Marik said softly. "And so are your wounds. After a few days, I think you can walk again." Ryou sucked in another uneven breath.

"Really…?" Ryou whispered sleepily. Marik nodded and hushed the other softly.

"Yes….really." Marik found himself slowly stroking Ryou's hair. "Really."

Ryou sighed again, his head limply turning to the side. Marik again brushed Ryou's bangs away, but this time, he slowly draped a cold, wet cloth onto Ryou's forehead. The boy winced slowly again, but relaxed beneath Marik's comforting hand.

"Better?" Marik breathed.

Ryou nodded and inhaled shakily once more.

"Better…"

Marik nodded slowly.

"Go to sleep…" He hushed Ryou softly. "You've had a rough day today."

Ryou nodded weakly. He opened his eyes for a moment, blearily focusing them on Marik. He summoned another weak smile.

"Thank you…Marik…"

Marik's former smirk turned smile. He bent down low so that his nose and Ryou's were almost touching. Ryou giggled tiredly and poked his nose against Marik's. Marik's smile grew.

"No problem." He gently nuzzled Ryou's nose. "I won't go."

Despite his fever, Ryou's face glowed graciously. Although he was too weak to say it, his smile showed his gratitude beyond any words, and softly, he kissed Marik on the nose.

"I love you…"

His voice trailed off into sleep, and softly, Ryou slumped against Marik's shoulder. For a moment, Marik was unsure of what he just heard, daring to believe it. Ryou had sounded too sleepy for it to be truly sincere…at least…that's what Marik thought…

Still, despite all that, Marik slowly hooked an arm around Ryou's shoulders. When he was certain that Ryou was deeply in slumber, Marik rested his chin against the crown of Ryou's head.

_I love you too._

* * *

And so starts another romance with Ryou and Marik. Of course, there will still be….um..two more chapters of angst, although either the next one or the one after that will have Thief Bakura / Malik. It's just getting really steamy, so I'm trying to tinker it out so that Marik and Ryou won't get so much attention. 

Bakura's random song was weird, but it will all turn out good in the end. There's a song Ryou sings to Bakura too soon, but that'll be like, three, four chapters later.

This chapter was actually rather good. I've been on an inspirational streak this week. I hope it lasts until next week too.

Anyways, happy Valentine's day! Read and review tons!

And thanks to starskittle410 for beta-reading!


	26. Of Dreams and Webs

A/N: Please let met explain my predicament

First of all, I want to apologize for this chapter. It was so long for me to try to fix up, even with my beta-reader's help, so it was left roughly in its original state. I'm sorry that this chapter was by far the most crappiest one; I've been writing essays on and off on end, and worse than that, I'm stepped a tentative foot into another fandom. –ducks as people chucks things at her-. For all those Yami Bakura / (stronger) Ryou fans, ( and like Phantom of the Opera) ---can I suggest to you a really good manga called "Gorgeous Carat"? –sheepish smile-

Also, the next bit to my predicament; its' spring break now, but I doubt I'll be able to update as frequently as I used to. School is overloading me and after recieiving my latest interms, I'm not pleased at all. So I'm taking some fanfiction time away and devoting it to my work. And I'm also taking "Gorgeous Carat" and manga time away from me as well.

So this update will be the last for a while. The story is not on hiatus; It's just that it's going to be a lot more difficult for me to update so quickly, especially if the chapters are as long as this. Please forgive me everyone.

Wee, onto crappy chapter. I won't even ask you guys to review this one; most of my stories suck lately.

-AL

* * *

Chapter Twenty Six: Of Dreams and Webs 

Exhaling, Malik lowered himself among the tall, swaying tresses of grass. The cool night wind whistled through the leaves and fondled his fair hair, refreshing him of his stress. In peace, he closed his eyes and leaned back his head in the night, basking in the whispers of the night and the songs of the breeze.

Bakura's voice floated down to Malik's ears. "Appreciating the night, Malik?"

Smiling to himself, Malik nodded, and sat himself down among the tall grass. Chuckling quietly, Bakura followed suit. From his right, Malik could hear Bakura crossing his legs beside him and the grass around them cracking softly.

An arm placed itself around Malik's shoulders, and instinctively, Malik leaned into Bakura's touch.

"It's a nice night tonight, isn't it?" Bakura commented, but they floated distantly to Malik's ears. "Usually it's much colder."

"Hmn," Malik replied, leaning his cheek against Bakura's collarbone. From above him, Malik heard Bakura sigh softly into his hair, and felt the thief nuzzle his nose into Malik's soft tresses.

"Smell good," Bakura grunted distantly. Malik couldn't help but snicker. Smiling broadly, he threaded his arms around the back of Bakura's waist, drawing himself and the thief closer in their embrace.

"You smell good too," Malik murmured pointlessly. He nuzzled his cheek into Bakura's cloak, a musky scent of spice and sand and earth filling his nostrils. The scent was so …alive. Nuzzling Bakura again, Malik inhaled deeply once more, although this time, his nose tickled. He sneezed cutely. Bakura chuckled.

"Maybe I should get washed up, huh?" Bakura grinned against Malik's hair.

Malik laughed.

"You've been stealing and wandering through sand all day. Maybe you should, don't you think?"

Bakura snickered and wrapped his other arm around Malik's waist. "Heh….yeah. Maybe."

Malik giggled softly, and gently pressed his lips against Bakura's cheek. The thief's snicker faded into a small smile, and his red-brown eyes deepened to a normal, chocolate brown.

"I love you, Bakura," Malik whispered. Bakura slowly nodded his head in response, his soft smile faintly becoming a grin.

"I love you too, Malik."

* * *

They wandered back to the cave, where Malik had been sleeping with Bakura every night recently. The cave was so high up that Malik could not resist gazing up into the stars every night, and sometimes when Bakura was out stealing, Malik would sit by the entrance of the cave, and count the stars, waiting for his lover to return. 

Once inside the cave, Malik pushed some of Bakura's hazardous pilings of goods into a corner. It was better to keep such things out of sight in case someone unintentionally wandered up this mountain. Granted, the cave was so high up, it was unlikely that anyone would ever think of climbing such a height unless they already knew the path by heart. Still, Malik was sure to be careful anyways…at least he was thankful that Bakura's more treasured possessions and bed was well tucked in the back of the cavern.

The thief, however, obviously cared not for where he threw his belongings, and promptly hurled his cloak and jewelry randomly away. Malik smirked and shook his head.

Bakura paused momentarily and peeked over his shoulder. A faint smirk worked its way across his lips, and although the shadows of the cave hid his face, Malik could see _that_ smirk clearly.

"What are you thinking?" Malik asked warily, though he was smirking as well. Bakura shrugged and arched his head cockily to the side, turning slightly towards an angle and swaying his bottom to the side unnecessarily. Malik's eyes widened and his eyebrows disappeared behind his bangs.

"About hitting on you?" Bakura grinned. He grabbed one last necklace from his neck and threw it haphazardly to one side, and sauntered towards the bed. "Care to join me, my sweet Malik?"

Marik snickered wickedly. "And you expect me to come willingly?"

Bakura plopped onto the bed, and leaned back, analyzing Malik carefully. Idly, his legs spread slightly, and his eyes glimmered in the darkness.

"Of course not," Bakura smirked. "But it would certainly be a lot easier if you did."

Malik laughed and made his way towards Bakura, slowly swinging his hips from side to side. Carefully, he flicked his long blond hair over his shoulders, slowly running his fingers about his waist, hooking them beneath his linen midriff and throwing it over him ceremoniously. He continued his way towards Bakura until he stopped abruptly in front of the thief, his pelvis sticking out invitingly, while he slowly hooked his thumbs over his sarong.

"I think I'd rather come willingly tonight," Malik smirked.

The thief's eyes widened in hungry desire, a hot tongue peeking out as Bakura licked his lips. Malik gave another teasing laugh, before slowly sliding himself onto Bakura's lap, and pressing his forehead against the thief's.

"You missed this, didn't you?" Malik breathed hotly. Bakura's eyes deepened in a lustful red and his smirk turned into carnal one.

"And you didn't?" Bakura retorted hoarsely. Malik laughed affectionately and wrapped his arms around Bakura's neck.

"Of course I missed this," Malik whispered.

He gently pressed his lips against Bakura's.

"I missed _you_."

Behind the kiss, Malik could feel Bakura's breath hitch. The thief's hands slowly made their away around Malik's back, their rough fingers scratching lightly and teasingly against the beautifully marked scars on his back. Among their deceivingly gentle caresses, Malik could feel Bakura's hands shaking minutely, as though the thief was having quite some trouble from controlling himself.

Malik moaned softly into those soft lips, closing his eyes. He inhaled deeply and filled his lungs to calm his slowly boiling blood, his quickly hardening excitement. He slowly ran his hands through the thief's ivory, soft tresses, feeling them sharp and tuff at the edges. Malik smiled softly into the kiss. Bakura's hair was different now…strangely…more _real_. It was not long and silky and deceptively smooth like it had been when they met during Battle City. In fact, Malik recalled feeling Bakura's hair then as almost ghostly as the spirit himself…lighter, silkier, as though the yami was about to dissipate in the air at any moment.

No…Malik loved Bakura's hair the way it was now. It was shorter, coarser, spikier, and, to the increasing pleasure of Malik…more _real_. He loved raking his fingers through those sharp dresses, along that scalp, knowing that this was Bakura, the real Bakura, not some fragment of a soul or some hopeless, wandering spirit…this was Bakura, flesh and blood.

And Malik loved him.

Apparently, the feeling was neutral. Before long, Malik also felt Bakura's hands in his hair, stroking them softly, running themselves through them and pressing his lips closer and deeper into the kiss…

Suddenly, Malik realized that he was lying flat against Bakura, that they were lying against the bed. More so, Malik realized that he was _on top of _Bakura, and yet, the thief was still hungrily ravaging his lips, his hands running all over the landscape of Malik's body in a lustful frenzy.

Malik parted his lips slightly, breaking a kiss and withdrawing just an inch. His blond bangs fell over his eyes and dangled above Bakura's forehead, already beading with little droplets of sweat.

"O-Oh Ra…Bakura…"

"I missed you too Malik," Bakura panted. He crushed his lips against Malik's once more, and promptly turned them over on the bed so that the positions were now reverted. Bakura temporarily broke the kiss and reared back, panting deeply. His brown eyes were now intensified with deep crimsons and reds, deepening with love and brightening with lust. He gently cupped Malik's cheek with one hand, and lowered himself for another kiss.

"I missed you too, Malik," he whispered sincerely once more. He slid both his hands around the back of Malik's head, relishing in those soft, golden strands that slipped through his fingers. "I missed you so much, Malik…"

And with that, Bakura conquered his lips over Malik's, and without a fight, his lover surrendered.

Marik stood by Ryou's bedside. It had been a few days already, and Bakura and Malik had finally found time to spend with one another. They had not dropped in tonight to see Ryou, but that was alright with Marik…strangely enough, he hadn't felt as though he had spent adequate amount of time alone with Ryou, despite the fact he was by the boy's side day and night.

Marik scowled. Even if he wanted to talk to Ryou in private, he had no chance to do it anyway. The feverish boy had been unconscious most of the time since his second healing. When Ryou did wake up occasionally, Marik chose those times as opportunity to get Ryou to eat or drink. The poor boy could not even lift his eyelids more than a few seconds, much less withstand an hour talking to Marik.

Shaking his head, Marik frowned and placed the cloth in his hand into a bowl of water. After dipping it briefly, he dabbed it across Ryou's hot cheeks, and laid it on Ryou's forehead. The boy gave a wavering moan in his sleep but otherwise said nothing.

Marik sighed and sat back down in his chair.

"Malik…" Bakura whispered huskily. His hands slowly gripped the other's arms. "Malik…"

"Hmn…Bakuura…" Malik moaned softly, turning his head from side to side softly. "Bakura…"

"You're voice…" Bakura whispered distantly. He slowly kissed his way up Malik's caramel throat, caressing the soft lobe of Malik's ear with his tongue, slowly outlining its contour with his wet muscle. "…so…hot…just like that…"

"Y-You mean…" Malik inhaled deeply, and when he spoke, his voice was a deep, rich purr. "Like this?"

With a curling grin, Bakura licked lips hungrily, and abruptly dragged his tongue down a tendon on Malik's throat. Gasping sharply, the smaller Egyptian arched, his golden hair flying as his head flew back. Wide, lavender eyes stared unblinkingly with passion, while bronze chest heaved high and low with lust.

"Like that," Bakura whispered. With another, quick flourish, the white-haired thief dragged his tongue further down Malik's heaving chest, running lightly against one of the Light's upright nipples. Gasping sharply, Malik arched his back, his eyes shut tight as he fought to breathe.

"Awfully sensitive today, are we?" Bakura smirked. Gripping the other by his sides, Bakura then began to drag his hands up and down Malik's sides, increasing the other's pleasure immensely. As Malik had always liked it somewhat rough, the thief's calloused hands were perfect at evoking that fire within Malik's skin, scratching trails of flame over Malik's skin.

"N-No…" Malik gasped, throwing his head back. "H-Hardly…"

"Oh?" Smirking, Bakura licked his lips, and lowered his head to kiss Malik's stiff nipple. A rough hand slid down Malik's sides, over his hips, down his thighs, and over his naval, just short of his growing manhood.

Suddenly, that same hand grasped Malik's manhood hard within his grasp, eliciting a sharp, loud cry from Malik. Bakura smirked wickedly.

"Is…that a challenge?" he whispered.

Groaning, Malik smirked, his hips arching from the bed as he threw his head back. His smirk widened when he heard Bakura pant deeply, the thief obviously more aroused than he let on. Eyes closed innocently shut, Malik wrapped his legs around Bakura's waist, rubbing slightly against the thief's hand.

"Well…" Here, one eye opened, shining brightly with a wild, lustful spark. "What do you think?"

The thief's smirk widened into a crooked grin, his white hair swaying as he bent further over Malik. With sudden vigor, Bakura threw himself upon Malik, his mouth hungrily ravishing Malik's throat. A sharp, surprise cry escaped Malik's lips, and soon, that one eye closed in lust.

"Don't say things that get me excited," Bakura whispered, breath washing past Malik's ear. The hand gripping Malik's tender swell increased it strength, bringing forth another cry from Malik's lips. "It's only making me want it more…"

Despite the fact that his mind was spinning in lust, Malik laughed. Softly, he turned his head towards Bakura, and gave the thief a tender kiss on the cheek.

"Who says you're the only one who's wanting it more?"

Another smirk crossed Bakura's lips, and closing his eyes, the thief gently pressed his lips against Malik's. For a moment, the two of them shared one, sincere kiss, their present needs forgotten and their love for one another heightened.

"I love you, Bakura," Malik whispered. Bakura's smirk slowly turned into a smile.

"I love you too, Malik…"

For a moment, both nuzzled one another, exchanging a sincere moment between them in the heat of their passion-making. With a chuckle, Bakura raised himself on his haunches again, his nose brushing tantalizingly against Malik's own.

"I swear, you'll be the death of me," Bakura chuckled, his low voice rich and deep as he laughed. With a smirk, he bent forwards and gave Malik a lick on the bridge of his nose. "You're making me sappy."

"Oh, but you love it when I'm sappy, don't you?" Malik smirked, arching his back and groaning. "When I'm your pathetic damsel in distress…when I'm your schoolgirl, your maid, your harem…"

Bakura had to bite his lip from bursting out in laughter. He quickly grabbed Malik's hips to retain himself and fastened his lips on the crook of Malik's tender throat.

"I love it when you're sappy," Bakura mumbled, suckling on the skin ravishingly. "I love it when you're sappy like a girl, rough and hard like a boy, and _Ra-damn it_, I love it when you're _naughty._"

Malik smirked and dived his hands into Bakura's hair, pressing the other closer to his skin. Hot, perfumed air wafted to his nose as Bakura raised himself to further ravish Malik's sweet sweet skin, shifting the bed sheets about them.

"Someone's been being pervy," Malik teased, knocking Bakura slightly on the back of the head. "Silly Baku-chan---AH!""

Growling playfully, Bakura had sunk his teeth into Malik's flesh. Immediately, he ran his tongue over the swelling flesh to soothe it, suckling on it lightly to be somewhat apologetic.

"I'm not the one who likes dressing up as a schoolgirl, maid, harem," Bakura smirked. He slowly nuzzled Malik's throat, purposefully breathing hotly upon it to tease the other. Malik threw his head back and groaned again, his eyes fluttering shut in bliss.

"Oh, shut up," he hissed, gasping haltingly. "You like me cause I'm rough and hard as a boy, don't you?"

Bakura snickered. Teasingly, he trailed his tongue around the contour of Malik's ear, breathing into it occasionally and chuckling low. Malik groaned again and thunked Bakura on the head for teasing him so maliciously.

"I love you cause you're you," Bakura breathed. The Thief King's lips floated away from Malik's ear, and pressed themselves against Malik's throat.

A soft blush pinked over Malik's caramel cheeks, and for a moment, he opened his eyes. For a while, he stared at the ceiling above him, almost ignoring the one above as Bakura began to slide down further and further, his rough, callused hands and considerably heavier weight enticing Malik's senses to no end. Bakura noticed Malik's distant demeanor and stopped momentarily.

"Did I just ruin a mood?" Bakura asked jokingly. Malik chuckled and turned his eyes back to Bakura, their soft, lavender shade glowing warmly as they trailed affectionately about Bakura's face. With another soft smile, Malik gently brushed away the white bangs shielding the Thief King's eyes, his fingers just skimming over the pale scar that trickled from the right one.

"I love you too, Bakura," Malik whispered.

Red-brown eyes twinkled. With a smirk, Bakura leaned back down, dragging his bangs to and fro Malik's chest. The other gasped softly and giggled, having never realized he was that sensitive to tickling. Bakura's smirk turned into a grin.

"You are beautiful, my dear, sweet, Malik," the bandit whispered. His hands gripped Malik's sides hard, and he suddenly thrust his pelvis against Malik's. A sharp cry issued from Malik's lips as the other arched, desperate to repay the favor. "My dear, sweet, Malik…"

"Ohhhh, Ra…" Malik threw his head back once more, his hands gripping tightly on the tendrils of hair upon the nape of Bakura's neck. He bucked his hips up again, his body straining to feel that spike of sheer pleasure once more. "Ohhh, Ra…."

Bakura chuckled and thrust against the other again. "Am I pleasuring someone?" he teased. Malik moaned and tugged lightly on Bakura's hair.

"Will you just shut up?" Malik grinned. "You're ruining the _mood_." He emphasized this with another buck of his hips, harder than before, drawing a sharp intake of breath from Bakura. Malik grinned cockily.

"Oh, you little _tease_," Bakura hissed. He immediately crushed back down again, his hands finding themselves on Malik's hips. A sharp surge of hot pleasure raged through Bakura's body. "You little little _tease…_"

Snickering, Malik rotated his hips a bit, sneakily just brushing his hot cock against Bakura's. The thief hissed and his eyes shot wide open, and unable to control himself, bucked back down. This time, Malik gave a cry of pleasure, his back arching and his pelvis shaking, desperate to crush his own hot arousal against Bakura's.

"Oh, Ra, Anubis, Horus----BAKURA!"

"Ra, Malik!"

Both bridges rose, and promptly, were crushed against one another. Hips rocked in melody and writhed in tune with one another. The bed creaked in accompaniment as voices of cries of lust and pleasure rose and sang to the skies above. With a dramatic gesture, the two of them stilled for just a moment, before a shoot of white burst between them, and both lovers threw their heads back and screamed each other's names.

* * *

Marik's frown deepened, beginning to merge into a scowl. What the hell was he doing here, anyway, caring for Ryou? Why could he go out and have fun, like Bakura and Malik? Marik snorted. Most likely they were screwing each other senseless…but still, Marik could easily find himself a harem or pleasure slave somewhere in the palace above…so what the hell compelled him to stay? 

The Shadows curled around his ankles, but he didn't realize that they were there. Instead, he focused on Ryou, trying his best to fathom a reason as to why he was here in the first place. A small voice in the back of his mind said, "Right…Right…Cause I promised…" But somehow, Marik wasn't sure if that was truly the reason why he was staying.

_Because you love him_, his mind whispered. _And he loves you back._

Marik stiffened and looked away. The Shadows hissed beneath his feet, retreating temporarily beneath the bed.

"I don't love him," Marik muttered to himself. He looked towards Ryou, and felt his heart weigh down slightly. He shook it off. "I don't love him," he said more clearly, to no one in particular. The Shadows smirked.

_That's right…_The Shadows crooned. They slowly slithered their way from the darkness of Ryou's bed. _You don't love him…in fact, he doesn't love you back, you know…_

_He loves you,_ Marik's mind said more firmly. _He said so last night. You are to blame of all the things that has happened to Ryou, and yet he still wants you to be there for him. How is that not love?_

_Oh, that's not love,_ the Shadows admonished wickedly. _You are to blame of all the things that has happened to Ryou…and yet he still wants to be with you. He's just lonely, and who does he find? The first person that he has an advantage over…your guilt, your blame, your fault. He's _using_ you._

_He's not using you! _Marik's mind bristled angrily. _He loves you! He is weak without you! You ask him of anything, and he will do it, no matter how wounded, or how hurt, or how sick he is! He is devoted to you!_

_He is a weakling slut,_ the Shadows hissed. _He nearly gave himself to Bakura when he ran. He surrenders too easily to the darkness and to those who would take advantage of him. He's taking advantage of YOU, Marik. Who would love you? _

_Ryou would, _Marik thought.

The Shadows laughed cruelly.

_And why would such an innocent young boy love you, Marik? You are not worthy of love. You destroy everything that surrounds you. _

_Ryou loves you and is willing to risk that! _Marik's mind berated. _He would do anything for you!_

_In exchange for everything that you can give him,_ the Shadows finished smoothly. _Love, care, company…he's been rejected so often that he's just using the last person he can find…you…to take advantage of you! Are you going to let that happen to you!_

_Ryou would _never_ take advantage of you, _Marik's mind insisted. _He's kind, caring, and loving…_

_...and yet, no one loves him back, _the Shadows retorted scathingly. _Not even you, Marik…admit it._

Ryou gave a whimper in his sleep.

* * *

_Ryou looked about in confusion. The room was cold, dark and dreary. The walls were slick concrete and the floor was hard and cold. In the corners, Ryou could hear mice tittering about for food, and rats scurrying along the holes of the walls._

_All in all, the place he was currently in was frightening him. Immensely._

_The darkness of the familiar dungeon shifted into a haze. He tried his best to get his eyes to focus. _

_High up in the opposite wall was a window. It was small, dirty, and too high for him to climb up to. Moonlight shone through it and twinkled its way into the dark. Its dusty beams even reflected off some of the walls and bathed the room enough light for Ryou to see his surroundings to the full extent. Ryou gave a cry of fear._

_Thick, black shackles and chains hung from the walls. Heavy black balls stood in one corner, ready to be chained to their victim and hold them down. A large, boulder-size rock stood in another corner, leather straps hanging off of them. Coils of rope were strewn throughout the dingy room, some dirtied with blood and others frayed from use. A bowl of water stood by the door, but the door was locked and heavy, and a rat was drinking out of the bowl of water._

_Fear overtook Ryou completely, and without another warning, he burst into tears._

_He was so cold. The only clothing he was wearing was a simple, ripped cloak and sarong. He wrapped the cloak around him and squeezed his legs together tightly._

_The door opened._

* * *

Snarling, Marik clenched his fists. 

Strangely, the room seemed to be slightly tenser. The air seemed to have stopped, and was holding its breath. Marik growled and stared accusingly at the angular stone on his wrist, watching it as it glowed dimly.

He had used it for a while in the last few days. He had been planning to stuff it away in his pocket with all his other junk…Ryou's broken dolls, Ryou's broken locket----

Marik gritted his teeth. The air seemed to be so stiff that Marik longed to explode and break something, shatter something, just so that he could break the stifling presence. He ripped the stone away from his wrist and chucked in into a nearby drawer.

The Shadows smirked, and without warning, consumed the room.

_Ryou struggled hard against the man that was holding him tightly against the wall. It was him. He was back._

_Those cold, black eyes. That wide, ruggish chin. That cocky grin and arrogant smirk. His straight black hair was hidden underneath his linen headdress, bearing the sign of the high guard. The captain of the guards. The captain of the Egyptian Army._

_"No…" Ryou struggled hard against him, remembering the last time this man had hurt him. "No…no please!"_

_"Silence, omen!" The captain struck Ryou hard against the cheek. Somehow, this man had seemed to increase his cruelty a hundred fold than the last time Ryou had seen him. He seemed so much bigger, so much more menacing than before. The shadows across his face intensified his black eyes, his wicked grin._

_The captain merged into the Shadows, and slowly became indistinguishable. Ryou sobbed in fear as the shadow kicked him hard in the ribs, kicking him to his side._

_"On your knees, slave."_

* * *

"Oh, g-goddd….Bakura…" 

Smirking in reply, Bakura licked up Malik's abdomen, cleaning his lover of the sticky gooey mess that they had found themselves in. Malik gave a lust-induced giggle, his passionate haze having not left yet.

"You are evil…" Malik breathed. Bakura's smirk turned into another grin.

"You really think?" Bakura teased. He hoisted himself back up and licked Malik's neck. "Well…let's see what we can do about this little one now, shall we?" Bakura's hands drifted down to Malik's quivering need and cupped them gently. Within another second, his hands began to pump the organ in his hands, making Malik's eyes shoot wide open.

"Ack! Bakura, you EVIL----"

"Why, hello, little Malik," Bakura tapped Malik's 'head' teasingly. "You seem to be enjoying me today…"

"YOU ARE EVIL!" Malik bellowed. Bakura laughed and kissed the top of Malik's 'head'. Malik squeaked and writhed.

"Would you like to see another friend, little Malik?" Bakura teased, his tongue slowly lapping up and caressing the side of 'Little Malik'. "I think I've got a chibi of mine somewhere here too…"

"YOU ARE NOT CALLING MY COCK A CHIBI!" Malik roared. Bakura laughed and kissed the mentioned cock.

"Well, he is certainly cute enough…" Bakura wrapped his lips around the head of the cock. "Isn't he?"

Malik was about to protest when his eyes shot wide open and glazed over, his heart speeding up as blood shot towards his reawakened cock. He groaned wantonly and shifted his hips into Bakura's mouth, needing to feel that hot cavern engulf his whole thing.

Bakura chuckled around the organ, and grabbed the behinds of Malik's backside. Malik groaned again and lifted himself up slightly to look at Bakura evenly in the eye.

"Okay, you win," Malik grinned. He shoved his cock a little deeper into Bakura's mouth. "Round two, you evil thing."

Bakura chuckled began to suck.

"Round two it is."

* * *

_"N-No…no please!" Ryou pleaded into the dark. The shadow paid no heed and licked his lips. Whimpering, Ryou huddled into himself some more, trying his best to cover his naked self. His cloak and sarong lay in a ripped pile somewhere in the darkness. The shadow took a step towards him._

_"On your knees…now," the shadow hissed. Ryou sobbed and shook his head._

_"No…no please!" Ryou pleaded. He clutched his hand to his chest and grabbed his ring finger protectively. "I---I belong to another!"_

_The shadow scoffed and began to advance on him. Ryou couldn't help as more tears streaked down his cheeks. He tried his best to huddle back into the corner._

_"You expect me to believe that you belong to another?" the shadow leered. "Please. Who would want a pathetic little thing like you?"_

_"I…I'm not pathetic!" Ryou protested. He pressed his knees tightly together. "NO! Stop!"_

_"You are pathetic," the shadow whispered. "You are an omen, a curse. Why else would no one be here for you?"_

_"…I…There is someone!" Ryou cried. "There is someone!"_

_"Don't lie, you pathetic weakling!" The shadow gave a roar and launched himself at Ryou. In a blind moment of darkness, Ryou was thrust onto his knees and hands. A loop of rope tightened itself around Ryou's throat, its trailing end hooked over a ring from the ceiling and ending in the shadow's hand. His hands were bound and the remaining rope was also strung through the ring in the ceiling. His ankles were shackled to the ground with short chains. The shadow struck Ryou around the head. _

_"You are nothing," the shadow hissed. The rope was jerked and Ryou's throat constricted. "You are a curse. You are an omen. Your family _died _because of you!"_

_"No…no they didn't!" Ryou sobbed. "They didn't die because of me!"_

_"You're the only one who survived!" the shadow hissed. "They were killed and you weren't! They were murdered but you were spared! You think you're so special just because you escaped your death so often? You think you should be pitied because you hosted an evil darkness within you? Well, you are NOT special and you are NOTHING!"_

_A whip snapped and coiled through the air. Ryou's scream echoed in the cold chamber, sounding all too familiar. The rope tightened and he was forced to lift his tear streaked face. The shadow grinned a wicked grin._

_"You are nothing," it whispered. "You are nothing. You are lonely. You killed your family. It's your fault they died. It's your fault that your friends were trapped. You gave your friends the darkness and evil that housed within you. You hurt your only friends when they tried to save you. And worst of all…"_

The shadow leaned in, and bent over Ryou, one hand still gripping the two strings of rope and the other slowly trailing down Ryou's abdomen.

_"…you betrayed your _lover_."_

_Ryou's eyes widened and filled with tears. He shook his head._

_"No! No! I didn't betray Marik! I love Marik!"_

_"You lie," the shadow hissed. The hand that was stroking Ryou's stomach trailed dangerously downwards. "You liked the feeling of someone taking you, don't you, you little pathetic thief? It made you feel special…worthy…when you aren't…"_

_"No…no…" Ryou shook his head. "Marik loves me! He loves me! He'd never leave me!"_

_"Of course he'd leave you!" the shadow snapped. "You are the most lonely, cowardly, sniveling boy on the face of this earth!"_

_"He loves me!" Ryou cried. "He loves me! I'll always be faithful to him!"_

_"YOU LIE!" The shadow ripped the whip across Ryou's back again. "YOU LIE!"_

_"NO!" Ryou sobbed. Pain exploded through his skin. "NO! I LOVE MARIK! I WOULD NEVER LEAVE HIM!"_

_"You say you'll never be unfaithful to him, you whore!" the shadow roared. "ON YOUR FEET!"_

_With a jerk of both ropes, Ryou was hoisted painfully onto his knees. His throat constricted once more and he fought to breathe, standing up as soon as possible to relieve the tightening across his windpipe. His hands were now high above him, and his body was right out in the open, ready for any attack from anywhere._

_The shadow smirked maliciously, and began softly caressing Ryou's abdomen. Choking back a fearful sob, Ryou writhed in his bonds to try to squirm away, but to no avail. He gave a shattered cry when those black, misty fingers trailed along the length of his limp muscle, attempting to awaken the passion that only belonged to Marik._

_Ryou struggled all the harder against his bonds, trying his best to stifle the growing heat that began to swell between his legs. The shadow cackled cruelly and harshly gripped the hardness in his hand, squeezing it brutally and yanking it hard. Ryou gave a high shriek that echoed off the dungeon walls…but to his horror, his need did not fall back in slumber. Instead, it twitched in the harsh grip of the shadow, growing hotter and hotter!_

_Cold, twisted laughter echoed in Ryou's ears. The grip became tighter, the growing heat more unbearable._

_"You like it, you little traitor…" the shadow hissed, its voice grated and dripping of poison lust. "So much for faith…so much for love..."_

_"I LOVE MARIK!" Ryou screamed. His outburst was full of a mixture of pain, anguish, terror, and anger. "I LOVE MARIK! LEAVE ME ALONE!"_

_"You useless, worthless MORTAL!" the shadow hissed. _

_It backhanded Ryou cruelly across the face, flashing stars in front of his eyes. With a strangled cry, Ryou's head snapped to the side, before falling limply on his chest. The shadow snarled venomously and struck Ryou across the face once more for good measure._

"_Don't bother to think that you are worthwhile, you pathetic weakling," the shadow whispered bitingly. It watched as Ryou's head flopped back limply onto his chest, his left eye blackened and swelling. "In what part of your pathetic life were you worthwhile? Tell me! I am intrigued! Tell me exactly when in your miserable life when you considered yourself someone of any significance?"_

_Ryou cracked out a sob miserably, but otherwise said nothing. The shadow gave a growl and seized Ryou's chin in its hand, glaring down at the beaten face with cold, dead black eyes._

"_You are nothing," the shadow hissed. "You were a worthless child to your mother and father. You were a worthless brother to your sister. You were worthless to your father, who blamed YOU for their deaths! You were also a pathetically worthless friend…Yugi and all of them, they never cared, they hate you, they wouldn't let you tag along…and Marik…"_

_The shadow's voice dipped in poison. Ryou cried harder, louder at the mention of Marik's name. His heart burned and ached._

"_Marik…he was the only one, wasn't he?" the shadow whispered. "He was the only one who came remotely to liking you. Even if it had originally started out with lust, with desire, with his unbridled want for everything and anything…he fell in 'love' eventually, didn't he? He fell in 'love' with you…"_

_The grip on Ryou's chin hardened. Ryou shrieked and struggled against his bonds, the rope pulling tighter and tighter against his neck. He fought to stay upright._

"_No---no! Marik---Marik l-loved…"_

"_You _killed _him," the shadow continued in a snarl. "You killed you own lover! The only one who even dared to show some compassion towards you! You killed him!"_

"_I DIDN'T KILL MARIK!" Ryou screamed. Another strike across his cheek, this time, the other one. His head snapped to his left and his focus nearly blacked out entirely._

"_YOU KILLED HIM!" the shadow roared. "You think you saved him? He DIED! He was DEFEATED by the pharaoh because he couldn't stop thinking of YOU! Don't you see, you pathetic worthless weakling, you were an OMEN! Any one who was around you died, or left! You were worthless EVEN AS A VESSEL!"_

"_N-NOOO!" Ryou burst alive and began to struggle even harder against his bonds. His legs twisted from side to side in attempt to kick his assailant, to hurt him, to drive him away, anything! _

"_SILENCE, WHORE!"_

_A coil of rough, hard pain struck Ryou across his back. He threw his head back and screamed his pain as the darkness began to dawn in upon him. He could feel them again…those sick tendrils that caressed his thighs and along his legs…He could feel the pain of the whip snap and smack across his back repeatedly, blood flying into the darkness, as he slowly began to grow limp, tired, and exhausted._

_The shadow gave an evil smirk, and raised Ryou's head. A twitch ran through Ryou's cheek when the shadow touched that swollen eye, pressing against it none too gently. His left eye could no longer open anymore. _

_The shadow's hands dropped the invisible whip, and slowly began to slither up Ryou's right side. He gave a panicked sob, closing his working eye in fear. The shadow chuckled and changed his cruel tatics. _

"_If Marik knew that you…his slave…," the shadow whispered slowly, "…his slave…had betrayed him and sought alliance with the Thief King, you realize he would be considered to be a criminal as well?" The shadow's voice changed dramatically back to the one of the captain's. Ryou cried out wretchedly in anguish and tried to tear away from the hand that was caressing his eye. It was too familiar…far too familiar!_

"_Did Marik realize you were on the same side with the Thief King? That you had betrayed him, and all the royalties that you were bound to serve? Answer me, omen!"_

_Ryou quivered and shook his head. "No…no…Marik knew nothing…please don't hurt Marik!"_

_It then struck Ryou that he had no longer any control of what was going on. This was a dream…a dream, relieving his darkest moments alive once again. The dark shadows were now taking him on a road he could not fight, no matter how much he wanted to get away. They were forcing him to relieve his most humiliating and heartbreaking moments._

_Ryou hung his head limply, his body sagging against his bonds. "P-please," he begged. "P-please don't hurt Marik…don't hurt him…"_

"_So you admit that only you betrayed Marik," the shadow clarified firmly. Despite his hazing eye, Ryou could see blurs of the shadow once more taking face of the captain. Ryou sobbed miserably and nodded his head, closing his eyes and hoping that he wouldn't have to look at anything as he relieved his memories._

_The hand dropped from caressing Ryou's cheek, and slowly slid in tune with the other along his side. Ryou gave another sob and tried to inch away from those hands._

"_We will have to tell your master, you realize," the shadow-captain smirked. "And after we tell him, you'll never see him again…we'll have to take you down here, take you to the courts and sentence you to a life of death…do you know what's the sentence for a thief, thief? Do you know what awaits for you when we get the Pharaoh's confirmation, and throw you in this dark pit? Do you know what awaits both you and your precious Thief King when we catch him? Do you?"_

_Ryou gave fearful whimper and shook his head. His wrists were beginning to sting from the coarse rope that tightened so cruelly around them so. His throat felt scratched and burning._

_The hands paused momentarily, and the shadow-captain forced Ryou's head up._

"_You will die," the captain hissed, a smirk widening on his face. "You will be impaled on a stake and lie there, over that stake, through your stomach, and die. Slowly. Painfully. Right out there in the open for all of Egypt to humiliate you, to hate you, to scorn you."_

_Ryou gave another wretched sob and began to tremble. The shadow-captain laughed, and his hands resumed stroking Ryou's waist, his hips, and slowly, the skin that no other man should touch other than Marik. Ryou gave a cry and struggled against the captain, trying his best to defend his territory. Only Marik could touch him there! Only Marik!_

"_But first…" The captain smirked. "Before all that happens…we get the pleasure of interrogating our prisoners before they enter the sacred court for trial. After all, how do we know truly that you betrayed your master, and offered yourself to the Thief King for alliance?" The captain lowered his head and gazed deep into Ryou's fearful eyes. "Do you know, little thief?"_

_Ryou cried more loudly and shook his head, tears streaming down his cheeks. The captain chuckled evilly and harshly grabbed that sacred skin, and crushed his hips against Ryou's lewdly._

"_Convince me that you've betrayed Marik, slave…" The captain hissed. "If not, then how are we to know if Marik knew what you were doing…? Show me, slave! Show me that you betrayed your lover and that Marik is innocent and you are guilty! SHOW ME!"_

_With that, the captain disappeared, but in his stead, three other, indistinguishable shadows floated into view._

* * *

Marik raised his head slightly when he heard a soft whimper next to him. Ryou's eyes were squeezing shut, and a few droplets of tears had begun to gather around his eyelashes. Marik gave a soft sigh and grabbed a dry cloth, and promptly dabbed away Ryou's tears. 

He scowled and chucked the cloth back onto the drawer. _Weakling,_ a malicious part of him whispered.

A spike of sudden ecstasy surged through his veins. He started for a moment and held a hand over his heart, his eyes widening when he felt his normally smoldered blackness increasing.

The candle flickered, even though there was no wind. A cold whistle of a breeze whittled past the door, and the shadows of the corners deepened.

He stiffened and looked away.

* * *

"Kiss me, Bakura," Malik whispered hotly. "Kiss me…" 

"Do you need to ask?" Bakura breathed back. With a hungry flourish, he crushed his lips against Malik's.

A pair of bronze hands raised, and raked themselves through Bakura's silver hair. Paler tanned hands caressed the smooth sides and the slender waist of the one beneath. Fingers traced and followed the path of mounds and divots of every muscle, abdomin, and skin.

"Damn it, Malik…"

Bakura momentarily stopped the kiss, his chest heaving for breath as he leaned his forehead against his lover's. Gasping in tune, Malik gently reached up to touch Bakura's damp cheeks, and softly kissed the other's lips.

"I love you too, Bakura…"

* * *

_He doesn't love you._

Marik clenched his fists. The room looked darker than normal, and strangely, Marik could feel a familiar sensation of darkness radiating from his whole being once more.

He took a deep breath and flexed his fingers. Yess….yes…this darkness…this power…

He tried to maintain it like one to maintain alcohol…he tried to drive it back into his control, to force it to feed him rather than the outside world. But the voices continued in his mind. Marik had another strange sensation that this was what he felt when he first appeared in Malik's body…the Shadows coursing though his veins and drinking in his hatred like blood red wine.

_Who can love someone like you…?_

Marik bit his lip and clenched his fists again, tighter than before. The voice laughed.

_You are a strong one, Marik…._

Marik grunted slowly sat back in his chair, his eyes closed.

_…but we don't need to manipulate you to get what we want, do we…?_

Marik gritted his teeth and clenched his eyes. The darkness laughed.

_Bend, Marik, bend….you want this power, you want this…the hatred he feeds, he love he lies…it feeds you, Marik…_

_…_

_…Bend, Marik, bend…_

* * *

_He tried to stop. He really did. He tried to get away, to run, to hide, to at least cover himself, but it was all futile._

_Why won't they stop?_

_His endless screams seemed to be deaf to his ears after a while. The echoes of his own cries in a cold, dark pit were beginning to drive him mad. The hot, swelling ache between his legs also added to his desperate, insane haze. The pain, the humiliation, the darkness…it was all cramming into his head, ready to crack open his very skull…_

_Another jerk from behind, another burst of pain, of shame. His heart gave a scream of endless torment. Was this how it was supposed to end? His decision? To give himself so worthlessly to save Marik, or to lose Marik to death and remain faithful?_

_Ryou sobbed between his cries. No…as much shame and pain he would have to endure, he would never do anything to hurt Marik. At least if Marik found out, he would at least still be alive…_

_His body contorted into spasms, and with one last, begging scream, he relieved himself of that burning burden. _

_…At least Marik would be alive._

* * *

Bend, Marik, bend… 

Marik flexed his hands and turned to look at Ryou. The young boy was muttering in his sleep, his voice pleading something or another. The amethyst gaze in Marik's eyes intensified, nearly glowing a deathly white.

_Look at him, the pathetic weakling…_

Ryou's head tossed from side to side.

_…Such an innocent aura…perfect to deceive someone like you._

A soft cry emanated from Ryou's lips. He arched from the bed and a trickle of sweat beaded down his face.

_Did you really think we'd leave you that quickly, Marik…?_

Ryou shuddered violently and tossed to the side.

_…We are the darkness, you are our master…_

Marik shook his head slowly, his wide, immobile eyes glowering white.

_…You...we…Us…we are the darkness…_

The shaking in his hands increased. His veins began to burn at an unhealthy, ecstatic level. His blood began to boil as though thirsty for something more…more hate, more pain, more deception…

_Did you truly think…that just because he was there, we'd go away? That what you feel is 'love'? Pathetic…you are the Darkness, Marik…you belong to us, and you hate him…we belong as one…we've been waiting, waiting…you fed us…you fed us our souls, our hatred, our hunger…and now, Marik…_

Any traces of lavender in Marik's eyes were now gone.

_We are hungry, Marik…._

* * *

The torment was never ending, spiraling down into his very core. It drove him to the very brink of insanity, the very point of weakness, defeat, and agony. The captain's face returned, sneering at his broken form while he remained begging, pleading… 

_"Please no more…no more…"_

_"Please…it hurts, it hurts…I can't…no more…"_

_"N-no more…no more…"_

_"Don't…take me again…"_

_A hand grabbed his chin, and before him loomed the captain's face. _

_"You are nothing," he hissed. His face shimmered, as though a ripple in a pond. "You are a pathetic, traitorous whore…"_

_The face was rippling into distortion now. The black eyes were glowing amethyst, the black hair slowly rising the to the heavens. The roots and tips were now slowly shading to a gold, and the ruggish jaw was becoming smoother, more defined, more handsome._

_But the smirk….that familiar smirk…it was the same…_

_Ryou gave a scream and stumbled back. The shadow-twisted version of his lover threw his head back in cold laughter, his amethyst eyes glimmering with flashes of white._

_"You traitorous whore…" Marik whispered. "First Bakura, then any other man who shows his affections upon you?"_

_Ryou's eyes widened, and he shook his head fearfully. "No---no…that's…that's not it…"_

_"So the moment I turn my back, you take it as a chance to find Bakura?" Marik sneered. "My my, I never realized you were so unfaithful…"_

_"I was faithful!" Ryou cried brokenly. "P-please, Marik---"  
"Silence slave!" A hand backhanded Ryou across the face. "YOU LIED, you traitorous whore! YOU LIED!"_

_"NO! Please---Marik!"_

_He thrashed. He tried his best to get away, to run, to face Marik when he wasn't so angry. But Marik's held him firm against the wall, his fingers entangled in Ryou's hair and gripping them to the point Ryou thought his head would be scalped bare._

_"Admit it, you traitorous whore," Marik hissed, ice lining his words. "Admit it to me loud and clear…you were a whore, weren't you? You let yourself be taken, didn't you?" He wrapped a hand around Ryou's throat, a thumb pressing dangerously on the slight divot on his throat. "ANSWER ME!"_

_Ryou sobbed and shook his head. Another backhand. _

_"No---no please….Marik---" He choked on his words, grasping feebly at the hands that threatened to kill him. "Please---Marik, you have to u-understand…"_

_"JUST ANSWER, WHORE!"_

_Ryou screamed and struggled furiously in Marik's grasp. His hands flailed desperately as they tried to fight Marik off him, tried to force the grip off his throat. In his frenzy, his hand sliced across Marik's face, and with a grunt, Marik's head snapped to the side. When his face reappeared behind those shadows, Ryou could see trails of blood where his nails had struck Marik._

_Tears streamed down his cheeks as he squirmed desperately, his air supply slowly fading off. He slumped helplessly in Marik's grasp, and futilely tried to pry Marik's grip off of him, which had tightened tremendously. Ryou gave another rasped gurgle, his face feeling as though it was being pumped with blood. _

"I-I was taken!" Ryou choked out. "I WAS TAKEN! I WAS TAKEN! Please..Marik…please stop…STOP---PLEASE….." He reared back and screamed as loud as he could to the heavens. "I'M SORRY MARIK!"

_The darkness swirled and laughed around him. The world was spinning right before his eyes, but he could do nothing. All he could do was repeat to himself: I was taken, I was taken, I was taken, I was taken, I'm sorry Marik, I'm sorry Marik….but nothing worked. _

_The world seemed to erupt before his eyes. Chaos sprouted by his sides and Ryou could only helplessly repeat his misery…Spots of light exploded in front of his eyes, and after a moment, Marik's face swam into view. Fearfully, Ryou tried to claw at that face, hoping that the choking could be relieved…a distant grunt and yell echoed in his ears, and he screamed long and hard once more "I WAS TAKEN!"_

Suddenly, the world grew bright, and Ryou paused momentarily, his chest heaving and panting. Before him stood Marik, grasping his hand so hard that Ryou thought his fingers would break. Two thin streaks of blood were scratched across Marik's face, where Ryou's nails had scratched him.

The haze was slowly disappearing, less strong that before. Ryou swooned and whimpered feebly under Marik's intense gaze, and with a sinking horror, Ryou realized what had just happened.

Marik's grip on his fingers tightened. "You…what?"

Ryou's eyes grew and his began to quiver. He tried to shake his head, to say anything, to say no, but he couldn't. Marik's hand tightened again, and Ryou whimpered when he saw the intensity of rage that was being suppressed in Marik's eyes.

He tried to speak, but his words seemed incoherent and broken.

"M-Marik…n-no…I---"

He gave a cry when the Marik clenched his hands once more. The white flicks in Marik's eyes sharpened, and for a moment, Ryou was fearful that Marik would kill him.

In a fearfully calm tone, Marik asked once more, "You were what, my little thief?"

Ryou's throat seemed to have constricted, regardless of any stranglehold. He desperately tried to cling to Marik in some way, to hold his hand, but even his other hand was held down by Marik's, and from the force of Marik's grip, Ryou could feel blood beginning to well.

He tried to say something, to say anything. "M-Marik…p-please…"

The whites sharpened again. "You were…taken, you said, my little thief?" The voice was cold, hard, and Ryou shrank into himself as best as possible.

"Please, Marik," Ryou pleaded. "Please…please don't be mad…I…I…"

"You were taken…" Slowly, Marik stood up, and Ryou fell back onto the bed. He quickly grasped his fingers and tried to massage the numbness away. The whole world seemed yellow and sick by this point, and Ryou faintly realized that he was still sick.

"Please Marik…" His voice sounded weak, even to him. "Marik…"

Marik slowly shook his head, his eyes wide and his pupils narrowed. Blood began to boil once more in his veins, his hatred returning in a slowly increasing wave. Without warning, he grabbed the bedspread away from Ryou's body. With one hand, he held Ryou down painfully in the stomach, and with the other hand, shoved his fingers up Ryou's passageway.

Startled, Ryou gave a scream, trying his best to thrash away from Marik's grip.

"Marik! Marik! What are you doing? Marik!"

The cries were deaf to Marik's ears. His fingers continue to delve in Ryou's passageway scissoring cruelly against Ryou's healing insides. Ryou gave a wretched sob and tried to squirm away, but to no avail. Finally, Marik froze, and slowly slid his fingers back out. He stared at them distantly; there were blood streaked on them.

"You were taken…" Marik's voice was faint, barely noticeable. Slowly, he clenched his blood-streaked hand into a fist, and Ryou paled when he saw how it began to tremble so dangerously. "…You lied…"

Ryou desperately shook his head and curled up in a ball, covering himself with the bedspread. "No---please, Marik, please listen…" Ryou gave a weak cough, his lungs inflating and deflating exhaustedly. "P-please Marik…..please---"

"You lied." The two words were spoken with such a calmed, forced monotone that Ryou fell silent. "You lied." Marik turned to him, and Ryou clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle his cry. Marik's eyes were white. "_You lied_."

Those two words bit into Ryou's heart so painfully. His chest seemed to be afire form the burning of his heartstrings, as though they were shriveling up into very ashes within his chest. Tears surged through his eyes and he shook his head again, trying his best to be coherent with his lover. He tried to reach out to Marik, to comfort him, to say no….

But his hand was slapped away in a blur of an instant. In the next, Marik's hands were around his throat, and Ryou suddenly realized that it was possible that Marik would kill him. Fear froze him through his veins and he stared up at those white eyes in terror, watching in horror as dark veins began to creep back up the corners of Marik's face. Marik's eyes were so wide, yet his pupils were so small; they appeared almost in a demonic fury.

"You _lied._" Marik's whisper was so cold, so sharp that it struck through Ryou's chest like a bladed knife. "You didn't tell me…you didn't trust me…you _lied._"

"No-…please, Marik no…" Ryou whimpered. More tears streamed down his cheeks. "Please Marik----please don't do this….please don't…"

"You never gave a damn, did you?" Marik continued as though Ryou had never spoken. "You lied…just like everything else in my damn life. You lied to me. YOU LIED TO ME!"

The stranglehold tightened. Ryou saw flashes of white blossom in front of his eyes. His throat constricted, his lungs began to burn for breath. Crying out in terror, he tried to claw Marik's hands away from him, but Marik's hands were too strong. They tightened and tightened, the intensity of his eyes growing and growing with every clench.

"You lied---" Marik hissed. Ryou's airway was completely blocked now. His mouth was open, trying desperately to breath, his eyes rolling everywhere to release the grip on his throat. "YOU LIED!"

His fingers clenched even tighter. The fire in his blood roared to such an angry heat that he could no longer bear it. Whatever heart he might have gained over his days with Ryou had been shattered and were burning where they belong: in Hell.

More veins twitched on his face. Ryou gave a strangled, begging noise but Marik paid no heed. Ryou's porcelain face was slowly turning purple. Marik did not care. All he wanted was to punish the only thing that made him trust again…the only thing that fooled him, tricked him and betrayed him again. _Again._

He had been right the first time. Love, Care and Forgiveness did not exist. Ryou had once again assumed that illusion and fooled Marik into a world where Marik actually had thought that things would turn out alright. For a while, Marik actually thought that maybe it was possible for Ryou to love him back, but no….no…the little traitor…no trust, no consideration…just another pathetic _trick_!

Ryou would pay. Ryou would pay dearly.

The pressure boiled in Marik's veins, and for a moment, he could see nothing. With everything he had, he clenched his hands so tightly that he could feel them against on another around the circumference of Ryou's throat. The anger and fury that relished and craved the Shadows behind him fueled him with everything he needed….he needed to kill, to punish, to destroy. And he _would_ destroy Ryou!

_No…Marik, please stop…_

That little voice! It was still there! He tightened his grip, trying to block it out. The little voice begged again, this time just like Ryou.

_Please Marik…please don't…I'm sorry…_

Sorry never cuts it, Marik thought to himself angrily. I've been sorry ever since I met you. I'll never be sorry again! I'll never care for you again!

_Marik---please…sto…stop…can't...breathe..._

Suddenly Marik realized something. The world of white blindness cleared, and Marik saw that Ryou's head had fallen back. His hands fell limply from Marik's wrists.

Marik suddenly released his hands, as though they were burned. For a moment, he stared at Ryou, almost in shock. The boy's face faded from his dangerous purple color, and returned to red. The bandaged chest weakly rose once more, and with all his effort, Ryou opened on eye. It was bloodshot, it was full of tears, and it was filled with an emotion Marik did not understand.

"Marik…"

The chest begun to fall and rise more quickly, though Ryou looked as though he was ready to collapse into a faint…or even death. One hand tried, one last time, to reach out to Marik. It barely skimmed Marik's skin when Marik instantly backhanded Ryou with all he had. With so much as a small, defeated cry, Ryou fell against the bed, and collapsed into unconsciousness.

"Don't touch me…" Marik stood up quickly and glared at Ryou. "Whore."

Without another word, Marik fled out of the room. The Darkness within the room licked its lips hungrily, before ravishing upon the unconscious figure on the bed. Despite the lack of light or consciousness, one tear slipped from Ryou's closed eye, and slipped onto the bedspread.

* * *

Bakura woke up abruptly and held a hand to his heart. Malik sleepily blinked his eyes from sleep, and looked up curiously at his lover.

"Sumthin' wrong?" Malik's slurred voice asked, still from the dregs of passion. Bakura frowned and thought deeply.

"Ryou."

Whatever traces of sleep and passion disappeared from Malik's eyes as soon as he heard Ryou's name. Worriedly, he clutched onto Bakura, and watched anxiously as Bakura slowly retraced his throat, as though trying to understand what was going on from Ryou's side.

"You can still feel him?" Malik asked. Bakura nodded. "How?'

"Simple occult," Bakura replied simply. "I can sense any spirit that's somehow related to me. Plus...my link with Ryou is still quite strong."

"What's going on then?" Malik shook Bakura's arm worriedly. "Bakura, is Ryou okay?"

Bakura's fingers stopped their tracing around his neck. "...He's fine."

"But what happened?" Malik shook Bakura's arm again. "Bakura, tell me!"

"Marik. He tried to kill Ryou."

Malik's eyes widened and he saw Bakura's fingers retracing his throat once more. Malik paled.

"Is Ryou alright!"

"He's stopped breathing for a moment," Bakura said softly. "...but I think he's okay..."

"How could he have survived?" Malik whispered. "Marik---if Marik wanted to kill Ryou like that...how could Ryou have survived?"

Bakura shook his head and settled back onto his pillow. "I don't know. But Ryou's alright now. We'll visit him in the morning."

"And if he stops breathing before then!"

"I'll watch for him tonight. I'll keep my link as open as I can."

Malik slumped sadly against Bakura. "What if ----how could...how could Ryou have survived?"

Bakura shrugged and quietly settled into Malik's shoulder. "Maybe...maybe Marik stopped just before Ryou went into unconciousness. He stopped right before he could kill Ryou."

"But why?"

Bakura sighed and shook his head, kissing Malik's shoulder lightly. He gave another sigh.

"Maybe deep down, Marik knows he'd never be able to kill Ryou."


	27. Surreal

Chapter Twenty Seven: Surreal

A couple of days passed; this time Marik found himself in a common, low bar. He had wandered away from his underground association to this brawl of an inn. Why or how he ended up here, he wasn't sure.

In fact, he wasn't sure when he made his way through the broken doors, and shoved his way to the corner of the long bartender's table. The turbaned man gave him a gruff welcome and asked Marik the customary, "What will you have?" and quickly went his way to get Marik what he wished.

Through the dregs of smoke, time passed without Marik's knowledge. His drinks came cup after cup, shot after shot, but not even the burning taste of alcohol could take his mind away from what he knew it was straying towards. He shook his head and angrily slammed his empty cup against the wooden table. No. He was not going there. He was not going anywhere near there. He was never going back.

Why was he here? Why was he drinking sullenly in the corner of a tavern full of low-lives? Why was he drinking alone among the commoners when he could be sitting on his throne, sipping Egypt's greatest wine, and have harems kneel and be at his every beck and call? Why was he here?

Groaning mutely to himself, Marik slowly rubbed his forehead. He knew his eyes were bagging with distress from nights of no sleep. He also knew how could his side felt, as though something was missing from it. He also knew how his chest felt rather empty. It wasn't hard and cold like it was when he was pursuing the Pharaoh's death, but now it was just hollow, empty. Nothing stirred any emotion within him. Not pointless death, not conquest, not even the high of sadism that usually made him pleased. Nothing pleased him anymore.

Taking another deep swig, Marik leaned back in his corner and began to observe his surroundings for the first time. The tavern was mostly filled with men: big, burly men, thin, linen-swathed men, cocky, arrogant, chest-baring men. Marik almost found himself snorting in disgust at these commoners. A few of the more decent ones were sitting together at tables, playing some game. Some were even enjoying themselves.

A couple more littered along the long table of the bartender's. These were more lank, limp, as though they had given up a long battle before it had already started. A group of thick-skulled, burly men grouped together in Marik's opposite corner, admiring their weapons and eyeing whatever poor female or male that caught their attention.

Marik followed their gazes and found what indeed they were so interested in: she was sitting nervously in a mass of one of the kinder-looking groups, participating and smiling unsurely occasionally when they asked her to make a move. A man from the circle noticed her fidgeting and gave her a hearted, comforting slap on the back. The girl smiled back more strongly, and nodded her pretty head, her long curly black hair tumbling out of her hood.

Marik watched in dead silence as the biggest man from the corner began to stride his way towards the humble group. He was tall, muscled, and would be considered rather handsome if he hadn't had that stupid, cocky grin on his face. His long black hair was swept back charismatically and his lean, smooth jaw was set in place for a smirk. The pretty girl saw him approach, and quickly hid the fallen strands of her long black hair back into her hood.

Shaking his head, Marik took a swig out of his cup again, before returning to watch the approaching action. He narrowed his eyes warily when he saw the man boast and slap a shoulder around the girl's shoulders, brawling something about being captain of Egypt's new army. Marik snorted disgustedly and took another sip from his cup. Stupid drunkard, no doubt.

Suddenly, he heard a table smashing, and he redirected his gaze to the table. The 'captain' had cracked it with his fist, and the girl was looking terribly frightened. A couple of the men stood up and argued against him, but Marik could easily see that they would lose this battle very quickly. Marik sighed and shook his head.

The girl gave a soft cry when her hood was pulled back from her head. Her cheeks began flushing pink from embarrassment as she tried to hide her hair, but the 'captain' would have none of that. The girl finally gave a scream when the 'captain' grabbed both her wrists and pulled her flush against him. By this point, Marik had gotten quick sick of this lowly tirade, so he finally stood and made his way towards the pack.

"Let me go," the girl struggled against her attacker.

"Let me think about it," the 'captain' breathed back. "…Maybe not. You see, wife troubles need to be sated on my part. Wouldn't you want to help me?"

"G-Go back to your own wife!" the girl cried angrily. "I'm engaged!"

The 'captain' burst out laughing. "You? A little weakling like yourself? I doubt that!"

"That's only because there's nothing in your head to doubt in the first place," Marik said smoothly from behind the captain. The captain stiffened and spun around, and gave Marik a glare. The captain was just a little taller than Marik, and for some strange reason, the man actually thought this was an intimidation advantage.

"And whose business exactly is yours if I want to court this girl?" the captain sneered. "You're a man, you'd understand. Troubles with the wife, and such pain needs to be corrected by pleasure."

"Well, let me give you some pointers," Marik retorted lowly. "For one, if you want to 'court this girl…'" Swiftly, Marik grabbed the man's wrist and twisted harshly.

The man yelled in a strained voice, and without further ado, Marik twisted it further so the man was forced on his knees. Marik's cheek twisted as he forced the arm to bend a very painful angle behind the captain's back.

"If you want to court a girl," Marik repeated smoothly, "then you get on your knees."

He tightened his grip and motioned for the bartender to come. The sinewy man did so with much hesitance, before Marik thrust the 'captain' at the bartender.

"Do you have a bouncer for men like him?" Marik asked monotonedly. The bartender swallowed and shook his head.

"Usually there's one customer…he causes more harm than help sometimes, but he's usually the one who does this type of thing," the bartender explained weakly. "He hasn't been coming in lately---"

"Well, get a bouncer," Marik cut the man off. "Specifically, for dimwits with equally sized cocks as their brains." He shoved the man a little. "In this guy's case…none…Sorry, _captain, _I meant that in a very caring way."

Coldly, Marik shoved the man away from him. A couple of other men who got the gist of Marik's action got up and helped with kicking the captain out. Without so much as another word, Marik began to return to his place in the corner, when he realized it was already occupied. He scowled at the cloaked figure and was about to snap the man off when a familiar voice floated from beneath the hood.

"Some heroic deed you just did there, Marik."  
Marik scowled and watched as the ring-adorned finger grabbed his cup and took a swig. "Shut up, Bakura."

Bakura wagged a finger. "Ah uh uh. It's _Bakhra._ You don't want these people to know my true identity do you? The captain of the guards was just here."

"Since when did you get enough of a spine to come here then, if there were guards?" Marik snapped as he settled himself down a clear foot away from Bakura. Bakura chuckled and took another sip.

"A) I like a challenge," Bakura replied, "and B), you cleared your way for me. Normally I'd do things like this as well, but you seemed to have a conscience streak tonight, so I though I'd let you handle it."

"You were the bouncer the bartender mentioned?" Marik asked dryly. Bakura smirked, but after catching a careful glimpse of it, Marik was certain this was not one of Bakura's more fun ones.

"Only if necessary. I hate drinking with commotion."

Not even looking at Marik, Bakura offered the cup to him. "Drink?"

Marik wrinkled his nose. "Ah, no thanks. You keep it."

Bakura shrugged and placed his half-filled cup back onto the table. "Suit yourself then. Oh, and by the by, we visited Ryou today."

Marik stiffened and watched Bakura warily. "What makes you think that I'd want to still see Ryou?"

"Too many things to count," Bakura said nonchalantly, picking through his bracelets and trying to decide which one would be good to pay for his food and drink. "At any rate, I'm not going to bother talking to you about much of Ryou's state of mind right now. There's no hope left anyway."

Marik's lips thinned and he turned away. "As if I care."

Bakura chuckled and finally decided on a couple of gold coins, and threw them onto the table, before getting up. "I am tired of trying to help you get past your insecurities, _Mariku_. I have my own business here in the Memory World and that's exactly what I'll pursue. However…" Walking around the table, Bakura brushed lightly against Marik's side. The Shadow Master stiffened at the touch.

"Keep in mind this is still a Shadow Game, _Mariku_," Bakura whispered. "Even though we're in a memory, it's a memory filled with Shadows. The Shadows live among us. The Shadows control us." Bakura smirked and ducked his head, his hood shielding his eyes as he began to walk towards the door. "_We_ are the Shadows, _Mariku_."

* * *

Hours later, Bakura had left, and Marik had found himself a seat at the bar. He was downing some quiet time in little pint cups, when Malik managed to find him. Apparently, Malik had been with Ryou most of the nights while Marik was gone, and this was the first night that Malik had left Ryou's side to find Marik.

And so began the interrogation.

"I'm not particularly interested in returning."

"Well that's a pretty lame answer," Malik retorted. He took another gulp of wine. "What the hell do you're doing? One moment, I see you snogging it up with your precious little thief, and the next moment, you discard him as though he's a piece of trash."

"It depends on the trash," Marik growled lowly.

Malik started, his head jerking up and his caramel skin turning a rather vivid, angry red color.

"And what the hell do you mean by 'trash', Marik?" Malik demanded. "Ryou is probably one of the most perfect people in the world who're kind enough to tolerate you. Aren't you even thankful for that?"

"Thankful for what?" Marik spat back. He raised his cup and took another gulp of his wine. "For being lead into a false sense of security? For being tempted by the mortal influence of love? For being a fool in thinking that maybe it was _possible_ that there was someone perfect in the world for me?" He finished his swallow and slammed the cup down hard against the table. "Or for being betrayed, made a fool, and wasted my time? Take your pick, Light."  
"You did not waste your time and nor were you betrayed, Marik!" Malik said angrily. He glared at his former Darkness. "Why are you so upset? You loved Ryou when you were on the blimp…more than even Bakura loved me! Why the sudden change of heart?"

"You don't know what really happened with Ryou, did you?" Marik asked flatly. Malik shook his head.

"Bakura's told me some of it, but I don't know what's going on with you. What happened? It's disgusting what the soldiers did to him, I know---"

"It's just disgusting how Ryou is such an inane hypocrite," Marik said, his voice lined with coldness. "For most of my time spent with him, he tried his best to regain my trust. And what do I find out? That he's been playing me for a sap, that he doesn't bother to tell me what really happened, and what's worse, he's no longer trusting me?"

"And whose fault is that in the first place?" Malik asked flatly. "The only reason why Ryou wouldn't have told you was because he'd knew you were going to overreact. He didn't want to risk whatever he had with you."

"A lie is still a lie," Marik said darkly. "I'm tired of being sucked into his swirling depression that calls itself love. Love is just a name given to make a lustful infatuation right."

"That's not true," Malik argued. He looked over his shoulder and eyed Marik evenly. "If Love is just some sort of lustful infatuation, then hell, I'd be kicking it up with a ton of people. But you know what? I'm not. I love Bakura, and I'd willingly do whatever I can to be with him. I enjoy my time with him, regardless it be cock-related or not. _That's_ your difference."

"Sex is only a partial factor of such infatuation," Marik growled lowly. "Humans of these nature are extremely clingy. Their hormones decide for them that they feel most assured in a certain someone's presence. I hardly find that love. If Ryou desperately needs someone to take care of him, it doesn't have to be me."

"Of course it has to be you," Malik sighed exasperatedly. "Ryou loves you for YOU, which is more I can say for anyone else. He doesn't feel the heart to live when he's around others. You, above all else, are the god on Ryou's highest pedestal. For you, he'd do anything."

"He could've told me the truth."

"And risk the chance that you would leave that pedestal and leave it empty?" Malik retorted back. He gave a short laugh. "Ha! As if. Ryou played what he thought was safe. He didn't want to worry you nor did he want you to leave. He wanted to just enjoy his company with you---and even now, he pines for you. He misses you. He dreams of you and he wakes up hoping you'll be next to him."

Marik snorted. "He's being a weakling. He shouldn't need to depend on me."

"You seem to be under the impression that love is something you can control," Malik huffed. "Well, it's not. Love is something you develop. It's something that you create, that you can only create for one person."

"Well, too bad for Ryou then," Marik said sarcastically. "I don't need to be tied down…"

"_You_ loved him back too, don't you deny it!" Malik snarled viciously. "Marik, you are my yami. You were created from ME. Our hatred, our jealousy, our rage and our anger and our misery are one and the same. We think alike. We share the same beliefs. We may not have a brotherly thing that Ryou and Bakura have, but we have something that's just as close. And dammit, Yami no Malik Ishtal, _listen to me._

"I have long ago realized that it was a mistake to seek revenge. I hated myself for it and I pushed everyone away. Now that I have everyone back, I am filled with a lot more completeness than I've ever felt possible. I have Isis. I have Rishid. To an extent, I have you. And most of all, I have Bakura. He makes my every day worth living, worthwhile. I don't think there will be anyone who can ever replace him.

"Ryou shares that same bond with you, and you share it back. I know it. I can feel it. I doubted it during Battle City, but I know you. Sexual infatuation may have been one of your reasons initially for liking Ryou, but that grew into something far more. I could feel your happiness across our bond when I was with Bakura in the Shadow Realm. And listen to me, Marik, the moments in which you were most happy were not the moments you had screwing with Ryou. In fact, the happiest moments you had in Battle City were all when you were sitting with Ryou, dancing with Ryou, and reading with Ryou. Simple pleasures.

"Ryou _needs_ you. I came back and I was blessed by Ra enough to have everyone I screwed up with return to me. Ryou does not, and I don't think Ra likes Ryou very much. Both he and Bakura are cursed equally with the fact that they have lost their friends and family at an early age. To Ryou, you are his savior, and for you, he would do anything."

Pausing momentarily, Malik hesitantly reached over and grabbed Marik's wrist. When his yami did nothing but stare at him with something akin to wariness, Malik regained his confidence and continued. His grip tightened on Marik's wrist.

"Can't you just believe that everyone deserves a second chance?" Malik pleaded softly. "There must be a reason why Ra let you, me, and Bakura survive. We did nothing good to deserve Ra's blessing, and yet, I am with Bakura, I am loved, I am with Isis, and Rishid. Bakura's remembered his past, he's patched up his relationship with Ryou, and to an extent, he even has you as a …bosom companion." Here, Malik smirked. "But…despite all the great things that happened to us lately, I have to say, _you're_ the luckiest one, Marik. I don't deny that at some point, I was intrigued with Ryou too, although that grew into something more brotherly than anything else. You are so lucky to have someone like him…why can't you accept him?"

"What's the point of accepting?" Marik growled, ripping his arm away from Malik's grip. "There is no point in accepting. What's there to accept? I am fine without Ryou; I can live without Ryou. It's not my problem that Ryou finds me as a replacement for some of his precious deceased friends and family. I am fine without him, or his love."

Malik's smirk softened sadly. "Then why are you still upset?"

At this, Marik jolted a bit, staring at Malik warily. "What do you mean, 'upset'? I'm not upset!"

Malik shook his head. "If you weren't upset, you wouldn't be drowning in common beer here." Malik sighed and slowly wrapped his hand around his cup again, tapping it softly to indicate it needed to be refilled. "Marik, I honestly don't understand. I realize that it might be a huge pride thing for you, but you're not dumb, contrary to what a lot of people believe." (Here, Marik was about to protest with a rude word, but Malik cut him off sufficiently). "You are part of me. I understand you, and you are the living proof that I'm not as good anyone else…or as I can ever be. But you're not dumb. If someone gave me a Christmas present, I'd love it and cherish it and say thank you. You? You shove it away, break it apart, stomp on it, do anything to it to show you hate it. And then what do you do? You go and brood."

Malik raised his head and stared at Marik evenly in the eye. "I somehow am not convinced that hurting Ryou makes you happy. I think you're just frustrated. When I was, I created you. I hurt Rishid. I hurt Isis. But you've never liked Rishid and Isis, so----" Malik shrugged. "Is that why you hurt Ryou? Because you think he's the source of your problems? That maybe if you beat him long enough, he'll just disappear and everything will be okay?"

"I don't need to beat him," Marik argued, though his voice was faltering fleetingly. "He doesn't exist to me. He's nothing but a lying, hypocritical bastard. A traitorous whore."

Malik's eyes slowly, very slowly, began to brim with tears. He quickly turned his head when the barman came to refill his cup, and didn't speak until the barman had left.

"I can't believe you'd say such things about Ryou."

"I can because they're true," Marik started bluntly. Malik shook his head, his blonde bangs shielding his forlorn eyes.

"If you really think that…" Malik whispered, "why is Ryou still staying up every night to wait for you? Why is it that every time I walk into his room, he asks if I've seen you? Why is it that whenever I stay by his side, he's still awake, waiting for you to come home and make sure you're alright?"

Malik quickly wiped away at his bangs, but Marik knew that it wasn't his hair that he was trying to brush away.

"Why is it that he keeps on crying at night? Why is it that he doesn't eat, doesn't drink, watching his plate, saying that he'll wait for you to share his food? Why is that he even try to console himself…'_Marik will come back._'? Why…why is it…"

Malik's voice broke.

"Why does he still stay up, sewing that stupid doll for you! Why does he try to raise the needle every night, even though it's too heavy for him to lift anymore! Why does he continue to make this doll for you…the very _doll you asked him to make for you_…even though his fingers are _bleeding_ and _raw_!"

With a sudden burst of anger and force, Malik reared up from his cowering position, and slammed his fist down on the table, right next to Marik's arm. His bangs swayed dangerously, looking spikier than usually as they accented the angry, amethyst glare that were twins to Marik's own. However, his cheeks were streaked with tears.

"Do you THINK Ryou wanted to betray you, Marik!" Malik yelled angrily. "Do you THINK Ryou would rather be fucked up by a couple of strangers, tons of times, rather than be with YOU? Do you THINK Ryou purposely went to them, spread his legs wide open, and screamed, 'FUCK ME'! I DON'T THINK SO!"

With another roar of anger, Malik brought his hand down against the table once more, upturning Marik's cup with a violent clatter. Despite his voice being choked up by tears and his cheeks red with tears, Malik continued on with his rant, grabbing Marik by the cloak.

"Ryou would DIE for you, MARIK!" Malik shouted. "And he IS DYING NOW! And you know what? He's dying because of YOU! YOU KILLED HIM. YOU beat him! YOU were jealous! YOU were acting stupid! YOU were being a STUPID, THICK-HEADED, HEARTLESS BASTARD, AND YOU STILL ARE NOW!"

With a wretched sob, Malik shoved Marik away from him, although disgusted. All the while, Marik said nothing, his expression blank and his eyes only slightly wide in mild surprise. He had not expected his Light to expel such forces of hate so quickly. Nevertheless, Marik remained motionless; cold, even though his heart twanged a bit from Malik's words.

Shoulders heaving, Malik forced himself a deep breath to calm himself. With he managed to regain some breath, he grabbed his cloak, and began to head towards the door of the bar. The rest of the dingy inn had fallen silent at his outburst and was watching him when he turned to face Marik once more.

"You really are stupid, Marik," Malik whispered hatefully. "What Ryou sees in you, I'll never know. I warned him before, I listened to him and gave you a chance…he actually convinced me that for a while, you were a good person…" Malik wrenched his eyes shut and turned away. "But I guess I was right in the first place. You are a worthless, idiot bastard. Ryou deserves much better than you. It's too bad it's just too late now."

With that, Malik wrenched open the door, and stomped his way outside. Before the door closed behind him, Malik turned to Marik's direction once more, his normally lavender eyes glimmering with tears.

"You don't deserve a second chance," Malik breathed, "_Mariku._"

Before Marik could react, the door had shut, and Malik was gone.

* * *

_He was running through the darkness. It was night, he supposed. But as he sat down onto the floor, he had to wonder…how did he know it was night? He had not seen the light of day…at all. Not even a flicker of a flame or a speck of sunshine…to be truthful, how did he even realize the word 'light'?_

_He looked down onto his small hands. They were smooth and soft and a light caramel color, not the rich, deep shade that he knew healthy Egyptians had. His skin was pallid and pale compared to everyone else, but then again, he had never been exposed to the sun._

_He panted for a while, trying to regain his breath. His long blond hair dangled in front of his purple eyes, dripping sweat from his exertion. The shadows around him wrapped around his body comfortingly, as though swathing a baby in its blanket. He sighed softly and closed his eyes, allowing the darkness to envelope him._

_His back burned. Tears began to prickle at the edges of his eyes. Blood dripped slowly down the length of his spine, warm and gushing against the hot, inflamed flesh of his back. He wanted to cry so badly, but he couldn't find himself to do it. Even though he had not even met mankind yet, somehow he knew that pride was a key to surviving his cruel world._

_The Darkness felt as though it were burning. The once calming serenity of darkness now seemed to glow and heat up with the most immense friction possible against his skin. He wanted to fight and yell and scream and kick until the pain would go away. The darkness was smothering him. The same darkness that brought him to life was killing him._

_No more control, no more domination. No more control, no more power. He was going to die, running away from something that surrounded him for all eternity._

_His back felt aflame. His throat felt tight. His lungs burned and his skin burned and all he knew of the world was pain…_

_Suddenly, soft arms wrapped around his shoulders. For a moment, he was afraid that those arms would tighten and suffocate him, but instead, he discovered that they were not tight, but snug. The arms were soft, gentle, smooth. They brought him to a soft, gentle chest, and the delicate hands pushed his little head against a soft, comforting shoulder._

_He remained shaking in those arms, uncertain of what to do. He was young after all…he was not…not big, not bad…even though he wanted to be. He felt so confused. So lost. So lonely._

I want to go home.

_He was delirious for freedom. For some sort of host, some sort of body. He wanted this freedom from the darkness so badly that he could not concentrate. Could not realize that he was clutching onto the soft folds of his savior's shirt._

I don't have a home.

_Soft, delicate hands began to stroke his hair. An equally soft and quiet voice floated to his ears. The voice eased the pressure in his mind, and washed over his skin, cleansing him of his pain. _

_He could breathe._

Who are you?

_He didn't want to open his eyes. Not yet. He didn't want to see the darkness again, mocking him. He had admired the blackness, the darkness, the night, but he was also afraid. Afraid that they could come after him, just as they had come after so many others._

_He had avoided them for so long. Never met their wrath. Maybe it was because he had never felt light before, he hadn't realized he was there. But now…now knowing that he was…there…they pursued him. Wanted a taste of him._

Take me home.

_The soft voice seemed to be unrecognizable in the darkness, but a soft, nagging tickle tugged at the back of his mind. He shook his head furiously. No, he wouldn't open his eyes. Not yet. Not until he was sure that the darkness would be gone._

"…_protect him for me…"_

_That song. It seemed…familiar._

_He shivered lightly. No…that song…it was familiar, but it was not meant for him. That song was meant for someone else._

"…_such precious cargo you bear…."_

_A boy with white hair floated into his mind's eye. That same boy who had a small scar on his eye and a wide, rude grin had arms wrapped around him. He couldn't see the person holding the boy, but he could guess. The boy, normally scowling and upset, now looked content and happy as he was disappearing from the darkness._

I don't have a home.

_He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to breathe again. Not because the Shadows were smothering him…no…because his throat felt tense and dry, and his eyes felt wet and moist. _

_He didn't want to cry. _

"_Do you know somewhere, he can be free…?"_

_He raised his head weakly. A soft, gently hand brushed his cheek, coaxing him to look up. A tender smile and a loving face looked down at him. The milk chocolate eyes were large and sensitive, deep and dark with adoration and devotion. _

"_One day…deliver him there…"_

_The gentle face glowed with a gentle smile. Somehow, the darkness didn't seem to be so intimidating any more._

_The hand brushed against his cheek again. The boy…teen….angel…?…gently pressed his forehead against his. In that same, soft voice, the light spoke._

_"Don't cry."_

_Although he hadn't been, suddenly he felt as though he might. He bit his lip and nodded his head, frowning in determination. The light above him smiled._

_He looked over the Light's shoulder. The darkness, once intimidated, was now angry and craved his soul. He shrank a bit in the Light's arms. Would the darkness destroy the Light, his only protector? _

_As though reading his mind, the Light stood up. His sweater was soft and white and comforting, like a baby's blanket. He then realized that the Light was much older than him. He, being the size of a five year old, was much smaller and lighter in the arms of the seventeen-year-old resembling Light._

_The Light then began to walk away, pressing a hand to the back of his head to protect him. He was amazed to realize how much the Light was trying to help him. He knew from experience that it would only be a while before the darkness reigned supreme. It was hungry, it was ravenous. It was like an infectious disease. It would kill the Light._

_The Light smiled and nuzzled his cheek._

_"Don't be afraid," the Light whispered, his voice very distant. "Don't leave my side."_

_Not replying, he nodded weakly. His little fingers managed to find the silky strands of the Light's white hair. Slowly, he turned to look at his savior._

_He was much older than he was…his white hair was beautifully long. His pale fingers were baby soft despite their delicate, willowy nature, and his cheek was silky smooth. His milk chocolate eyes were warm and compassionate, and somehow, they managed to chase away all his pain. All his loneliness. All his hatred and anger and despair._

_He gave him life. Freedom. And so much more._

_He liked leaning upon this stranger, although he was quite certain he must've met this boy before. He sighed softly and buried his face into the boy's shirt, hoping the white-haired one would not see him cry._

I think I'm home.

* * *

When Marik woke up, it was cold. His arms felt very bare, and his chest was tingling in the night wind.

Slowly, Marik opened his eyes, trying to clear his head. Automatically, his arm went to his side, expecting a soft, warm body to spoon up against. When nothing met his arms, he muttered a curse and slowly raised himself up, wiping his bangs from his eyes.

The cool desert breeze whistled in through his tent's clothed doors. As they flapped peacefully and silently in the night, a glimmer of moonlight flitted through, illuminating the by the doorway.

It was quiet outside.

Groaning silently, Marik forced himself up. His head pounded with the familiar headache of over induction of alcohol, thumping against his temples and spinning his vision. After taking a couple of moments to regain himself, Marik rubbed his face to force himself awake, and looked around his surroundings mildly.

After Malik had left, Marik had remained at the bar, thinking about nothing in particular. The Shadows in his mind were whispering him evil things, wicked things that he'd like to do. Subconsciously, he tried to re-adapt his plans so that he could now retry overthrowing the pharaoh…but somehow, his mind always drifted away. Got distracted.

The Shadows hadn't been pleased with that, so, without much ado, Marik paid the barman and had left back to his tent in the middle of the Sahara. Temporarily, it was just him and some of his loyal followers that he had managed to scour through Egypt's population. The majority of the robed men were pre-incarnations of his own future henchmen: though many of them had not remembered such a thing.

Presently, the devoted minions were resting in a larger tent about a kilometer away. Marik didn't like people and people did not like him back, despite their respect. He liked the solitude and he liked the comfort of being able to take care of himself and only himself.

But, as Marik stared out the flapping curtains, Marik realized he didn't quite like being lonely.

The small breeze flittered by his bare chest, causing him to shiver. He rubbed his arms tiredly as goosebumps pimpled up his arms, trying to wake him to full awareness. The headache pounded insistently. Behind his mind, the Shadows were not helping. They were hungry and were vocally expressing their craving for more innocent souls.

Since he had been borne, Marik had gotten used to the Shadows and their whispering. During the Blimp, they had been extremely easy to control, especially with the Rod as their grand master. But now, devoid of the Rod, Marik was having a lot more time restraining his powers. They tickled at his ears and floated over his mind, but he didn't really care. They were his loyal servants, and he, their master.

Marik groaned silently again and rubbed his eyes open. He stared for a moment at the moonlight shining into this tent.

_How long do you plan to keep this up?_

Groaning aloud this time, Marik closed his eyes and fell back against his bed. The little voice whispered softly again.

_How long do you expect to keep on ignoring him?_

Marik grunted and shook his head. He tried to wave it off as a beer thing, but the little voice was insistent.

_How long do you expect him to live?_

Growling, Marik sat back up, and arched his back, popping the bones. He swiftly grabbed a nearby cloak and wrapped it around his waist, and slowly walked towards the door. As he slowed down to a stop, he raised the curtains away to one side, and stared out into the moonlight night.

_Do you just want to wait?_

Marik grunted and closed his eyes. He released the curtains and let the drapes shield his eyes from the moonlight. The tent grew dark.

_Just wait until it's just too late?_

Ever since he had left Ryou for …perhaps a couple of days…possibly a week…Marik had been trying everything to get the white-haired boy out of his head. He fed the Shadows a sacrifice every night for some peace and tranquility. Every night after he fed the Shadows, the Shadows would blanket his head with blessed unconsciousness, letting him forget the painful moments that he found himself remembering too often.

Moments like sunrises, sunsets, dances and stars…

Marik lowered his head. The Egyptian night chirped with the faint violins of the grasshoppers, and whispered the hushed winds of the sands. Golden flecks of the Egyptian dirt dusted underneath his tent and began to float near his feet, like a soft breeze on a midsummer's night.

The night was silent. Even if he strained his ear, Marik could not hear the breathing or rioting of his slaves and servants in the other tent. The only sound in the presence of the night, was the sound of Marik's own heartbeat, beating alone in the solitude of the night.

_He was lonely once you know._

Marik clenched his fist and turned away. The Shadows stirred lightly at his slight aggravation, always ready at arms to enhance his powers whenever his anger got the better of him. The Shadows in his mind wearily stirred awake, and whispered drowsily,

_He doesn't love you._

Marik clenched his fists.

_But what about you?_

Marik paused, opening his eyes. "I don't care….I don't care…"

_You don't?_ his conscience whispered._ Then what if…Ryou just…disappeared?_

Marik narrowed his eyes. Disappeared?

_Gone. Forever. No more. Non-existent. No more warmth, and no more laughter…no more light and no more love…no more heart-beating romps and heart-warming little times together…nothing._

Marik shook his head and returned to his bed._ I don't need that._

His conscience huffed hotly.

_Sure you don't._

* * *

The whole trip back towards the Keeper's labyrinth felt as though it had taken a couple of days. The slow ride there, the dragging sands as the winds pulled to lift them into a soft desert storm. The night was quiet, still, silent along the way; not one bandit, not one cluster of travelers.

Distantly, Marik felt that the whole world was watching. Holding its breath as he found himself making his way down the steps of the underground maze. The Shadows, now fully awake, were suspicious of their surroundings.

The rooms dragged on and on and on, until finally, Marik shook his head and realized he was standing in front of a door. Behind the door, he heard the small little breaths of a weakened child, lonely, mourning, and sick.

He raised his hand and slowly touched the door, as though he had just realized it was there. He slid his fingers down the barrier gradually, as though he wasn't sure how to break through it.

_Why?_ He thought to himself, almost sadly. _Why didn't you just tell me?_

He felt his chest clench slightly, the Shadows instantly finding a new source of power to indulge upon: Sadness.

_You said you trusted me. Why did you lie?_

His hands slowly trailed down the door, and rested lightly on the doorknob.

_Did you lie to me all those other times too? _

Slowly, his hand closed over the knob.

_Everything that I did…did I do anything right?_

The knob rattled slightly in Marik's tight grip.

_I hate you…._

The Shadows raised their heads now at this new, seemingly appetizing possible feast. More misery, more pain, more sadness to wallow within…unbeknownst to Marik, who was still staring at the door in a sort of clouded hatred.

_I just want to know._

His hand slowly turned the knob, and creaked the door open with his foot. A dim ray of light swam through the crack, filling the hall with a small slit of watery, yellow light. Marik distinctly heard the soft breathing, the quiet, mourning sighs that floated among the thin light.

It had been so long since Marik could remember what he and Ryou originally fought over. In fact, just about everything Marik seemed to have suddenly changed its course….what he knew no longer was, what he thought soon became, …and as Marik opened the door to Ryou's room, he thought it was just simply so much easier to not think at all.

His blood and adrenaline were pumping up and down at anxious levels, eager for spite and wallowing in what Marik did not want to call insecurity. The Shadows stirred silently within his soul to full awareness. Like a cobra in the dead of night, the Shadows could taste a soul for the consuming on their wickedly forked tongues. And like the cobra, they hid silently within Marik's heart, waiting tenaciously for the right high of power, the rush of adrenaline…the raising of the knife and the slit of the throat…

Marik continued to make his way across the room. In the weak light of a small, withering bedside candle, Marik could see a small, skinny figure lying beneath the lank sheets. A messy mop of white hair was sprawled across the pillow, the bangs shielding the eyes of the occupant within. Upon further inspection, Marik found one of Ryou's hands lying exhaustedly next to his side; the palm open, holding limply a plushy doll a little bigger than the size of his hand. The fingers cradling the little lifeless plushy were also wrapped in mounds of white bandages.

Marik paused for a moment, and took a moment to watch Ryou sleep. Even in the dark room, Marik could see the boy's once soft and supple torso protruding with bones. What was once ivory skin was now a pallid yellow, barely visible and nearly transparent. The boy looked suddenly so small in the bed that it looked as though the very blankets that swaddled him tenderly would soon just consume him.

Shifting softly and coughing, Ryou moaned weakly and opened his eyes. Immediately, Marik stiffened, readying himself to bolt or yell or defend himself in some sort of manner…when Ryou slowly raised his and looked at him blearily.

Ryou squinted softly, coughing slightly and swaying his head against his pillow. His bandaged fingers enclosed protectively on his doll.

"….Marik," Ryou breathed. A small, teary smile grew upon Ryou's tired face, but the boy did not cry. Instead, he closed his eyes, and gripped his doll tightly. "I…I can explain…"

"Explain what?" Marik suddenly demanded. "What's there to explain?"

Ryou winced, slowly raising his arm and cuddling the doll to his chest, almost childishly. "…I'm really sorry."

Marik didn't trust his mouth at that point. What he was expecting…what he was waiting for…all he wanted was Ryou to just glare at him, upset him, maybe even request that he'd leave. At least emotions of Anger, Hatred and Sadness were things that Marik understood.

Ryou sighed again, looking up at Marik with a slightly regretful expression on his face. He lowered his eyes and looked away.

"…I know I should've told you," Ryou said softly. "…I just…I just didn't want to remember anything anymore. Ever since my fever..everything's been like a dream…a nightmare and a dream, all at once…" Ryou raised his head. "I didn't want to lose the dream forever."

Marik blinked, before glaring at Ryou. Where was the Anger? The Hatred? What had happened to any of the justified emotions that Marik deserved? Contempt, disgust, relief that he was gone…where was it all?

A soft rustle of cloths brought Marik out of his stupor. Ryou was holding out the doll for him; slightly bigger than Ryou's hand, the head of the doll was large and cute, with a mop of silver hair that trailed over Ryou's hand and dangled off. The doll's cloths were a little white and blue striped T, and little jeans. Big brown buttons were the eyes, but there was no stitching for a mouth, giving the entire doll a very innocent and curious sort of look.

Marik looked at the doll. No. No. This was not…this was not how anyone was supposed to react. No!

Without waning, Marik backhanded the doll out of Ryou's hand. With a small cry, Ryou fell back onto the bed, the doll soaring through the air and landing into the corner. For a moment, Ryou stared at it blankly, his eyes wide and empty. After the doll landed, they were filled with something akin to pain and hurt, and slowly, Ryou turned back to his bed.

The candle of light flickered.

There Marik stood, shaking. His breathing was harsh and laboured, his shoulders heaving slightly. Why had he come back here in the first place? Why?

Slowly Marik walked towards the bed. Though Ryou had his back to him, Marik could see the sick boy slowly beginning to quiver with fear. His voice cut through the air like steel.

"Why are you like this?"

Ryou made a faint, puzzled sound, before turning slightly to look at Marik. Marik continued, his voice hard, harsh, as though controlled by something beyond his means.

"Why did you lie? Why did you tell me all those things that weren't true?"

Ryou continued to look at Marik fearfully, not sure how to respond. But Marik didn't care. It was as though something had possessed him against his will, reaching deep within his soul, blackening every inch of his darkened heart.

"Why did you screw up everything I thought was right? Why didn't you just tell me? Why did you hide? WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO ME!"

_Yes!_ The Shadows cheered. _Yes, Marik, fuel your rage…!_

Suddenly, Marik grabbed Ryou by the shoulders and pulled him up. A soft squeak was barely emitted before Marik slammed Ryou against the wall, staring deep into the white-haired-boy's eyes with such intensity that Ryou could not look at them.

"Ever since I met you, why did everything screw up?" Marik yelled. "Why did you lie to me? WHY? WHY?"

_He is to blame!_ The Shadows hissed. _Kill the boy, Marik…give us another soul to eat…_

The Hatred…the Anger…everything that Marik had been made up of and born with: it was consuming, it was overloading. His mind was no longer in control. Only his hatred, his rage, his anger and most of all, his confusion was now in control.

_Oh, but you're no longer in control, Mariku_, the Shadows whispered. _No, now you're our little puppet, Master…_

Marik bit his lip, staring deep into Ryou's eyes, shaking the boy until he would finally look at him in the eye. A reflection shone back in those terrified brown eyes. And Marik did not like what he saw.

_Don't hurt him!_ the conscience pleaded in the distant, behind those eyes. _Please don't hurt him! Don't let them control you!_

Control me…Marik thought to himself dumbly. Who's controlling me…?

The Shadows sneered. Like the cobra now, it had waited for the perfect opportunity to strike.

_Hit him, Marik._

And without warning, Marik's hand automatically came up and struck Ryou across the face. The boy cried out in pain but could not even struggle. Marik watched as he slowly grew to realize something…

_Hit him again, Marik._

The other hand came up this time. Ryou was flung into the corner of his bed, crumpled among the blankets. Marik stared in slowly, sinking, realizing dread. Ryou was no longer even fighting back.

_You've made it this far, Marik,_ the Shadows whispered. _Destroy him, and all power is yours. You will eternally be Hatred, Anger and Darkness. You will always be as powerful as us…one of us._

Marik's mind tried to grasp that concept, but dimly, in the back of his head…

_"You've shown me that I can be more human than Darkness."_

_Hit him again, Marik._

Another slap. Ryou's head collided into the wall and he jerked back with a cry, collapsing onto the bed.

_This is all a bad dream…_

_…HIT HIM AGAIN!_

"NO!" Marik suddenly leapt back, keeping his hands at bay. "No…no…"

Suddenly, the little candle blew out, and the room was drowned in clouds of darkness. The door swung shut and a cold, harsh wind blew into the corners. They wrapped themselves around Ryou, wrapping him in his blankets, caressing him with such evil that Marik could only watch.

From the darkest corners of the room, the Shadows unfurled their mighty weapon and unleashed themselves from Marik's power. His entire body arched and writhed with the intensity of such power; it was as though his very soul was on fire, pupeetered and being ripped apart.

_Thank you, Master Marik. We are free…..and now…_

_…HIT HIM AGAIN!_

_Don't do it!_ The conscience cried. _Don't hurt him, Marik, don't hurt him…_

_Tell him how you feel, _the Shadows laughed. _Tell him how his light has made you miserable, has made you confused, insecure, Has destroyed you, Marik! BEAT HIM! NOW!_

"You can't be serious," Marik breathed harshly. "NO….no…this is …no…You…I…I CONTROL YOU!'

_That was never the case, Marik_, the Shadows laughed. _We have always controlled you. Once you returned, we had been craving for your little thief's soul. And now…oh, so close the taste of victory…Marik….SHOW US THAT YOU ARE OUR MASTER! KILL HIM!_

Before Marik could do anything, his hands were raised, and they found themselves against Ryou's battered body.

_I have to stop…_Marik suddenly realized. _Oh gods, let me stop…_

But the blows continued to land, and Ryou's cries continued to echo. A sudden grip of guilt grabbed Marik's intestines as he continued his onslaught, desperately fighting the angry remaining shadows.

_You hate him! He betrayed you! He led you into a false sense of security! He HATES you! He dreams of you and he screams in fear! He looks at you and he cowers away! He only "LOVED" you because he PITIED YOU!_

_No…no…I know he didn't…_Marik thought to himself, shutting his eyes tight. But the Shadows had raged his heart to a roaring fire, pumping his blood to force his arms to continue with their onslaught. A crack of broken bones snapped into the night, and Ryou gave a shrill cry, even though Marik could only numbly hear it.

_Oh gods…Ryou…I'm so sorry…I'm so sorry…_

_Kill him, you fool! He's nothing…nothing but a weakling…a manipulative, sly, sniveling weakling that used you and lied to you! No one lies to Marik! No one runs to Marik. NO ONE LOVES MARIK!_

_Stop…stop it! _Marik bellowed in his mind. _Shut up, shut up, shut up, he loves me, I know he loves me, he MUST love me…_

_HE DOESN'T LOVE YOU!_

_HE LOVES ME!_

"Why?" Marik yelled, his voice ragged and torn. "Why! Why do you do this to me? Why do you pretend you care, pretend you trust me, but then you turn your back on me! Why do you love me! I am MARIK! YOU LIED! YOU TRAITOROUS SNIVELLING BITCH, YOU LIED!"

_How can I be saying these things? _Marik yelled in agony in his head. _I love my Ryou…My Ryou. How can I possibly be saying things like this to him!_

"IS this what I am to you!" He continued to beat Ryou, his fists unleashing such mixed rage and sadness and confusion and hurt. "IS THIS HOW YOU THINK I AM? YOU FEAR ME, DON'T YOU? YOU'RE AFRAID OF ME! YOU COWER! YOU WHIMPER! YOU DREAM OF ME IN YOUR NIGHTMARES! _AND YOU STILL LOVE ME? DON'T YOU DARE LIE TO ME!"_

"N-nno…no p-please…" Ryou's soft voice floated, cracked with pain. "N-no…that's n-not it…"

_"DON'T YOU DARE LIE!"_ Marik roared. "I HATE YOU! YOU LIED TO ME! YOU LIED TO ME! I HATE YOU!"

_NO!_ the conscience screamed. _No! That's not what you say! Marik! Marik stop!_

_I love him…I love him…I love him!_

_You HATE HIM! YOU LOATHE THE LYING BASTARD! KILL HIM! KILL HIM!_

"….NO!"

With all of his energy, Marik tore himself away from Ryou. The boy landed onto the bed, gasping and choking.

_You hurt him! You made me hurt him all this time!_

_Well of course, Mariku, you simpleton! Couldn't you tell?_ The Shadows sneered._ How we've craved for his soul for so long…how he's just glowed with light and nearly destroyed us all! _

_What has he done to you?_ Marik yelled, raising his hands and trying to control himself. His arms strained from the control of his power, attempting to fight something that was just so much stronger than him.

_How many souls have we lost?_ The Shadows hissed. _His kindness, his love, his piteous beauteous sickening love…it was going to take you away, your soul away! It was going to take Bakura's soul…his darkened, twisted soul, away from us! He took Malik from us! He took everyone from us!_

_I AM NOT YOURS._

_Oh but you are!_ The Shadows laughed._ How trustworthy was he of you! How did he just give up so easily when he was around you! The poor boy, living in and out of dreams every night…do you remember when he was crying? And you asked him what was wrong? _

Marik's eyes widened.

_OH so now you get it,_ the Shadows cackled. _Oh, how susceptible was your little boy toy so easily to our whispers. Who was the one who put his insecurities there? Who was the one who told him that he was a whore, a slut, a bitch for not telling you what had happened? Who raised his hopes and faiths to withstand us, and tell us that you 'loved' him and would never think that of him? THIS WORLD IS A DREAM TO HIM, MARIK. _

_This world is nothing but a memory world! _Marik yelled back.

_OH, but you see, Mariku, haven't you seen what Ryou is like when he is sick? On the blimp, how he hallucinates….in the bed, how he can't recognize you…his fevers muddle his grip on reality and on fantasy. Why else do you think he tolerated you all this time? Did you honestly think that he would put up with you if he were healthy? _

_I…I…I didn't…I didn't…_

_Oh, what bull, Mariku. You were the one who hurt him, who got jealous. Who ran out on him. Beated him. You destroyed him, Mariku._

_I WON'T LET YOU! _Marik yelled. The Darkness laughed.

_There's nothing you can do to stop us, Mariku. His soul is an inch away from being consumed…finally, what a delicious meal we shall finally have. He must taste like sweet, creamy creampuffs, that little one…_

_I WONT' LET YOU!_

Suddenly, Marik clenched his fists and drove his focus to his surrounding world. His fists shook from his strain as he fought to reabsorb the darkness bit by bit, determined to return this filthy piece of hatred back where it belonged.

_I was a pawn,_ Marik realized as he focused on his powers. _Just a pawn._

The Darkness around him began to swirl. The Shadows seethed and hissed when they realized that he was fighting back, and began to refocus on him.

_You fool! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!_

Marik didn't reply. His entire body shook dangerously.

_My little thief...forgive me._

Shining from the heavens with large, silver wings, the Silver Winged Dragon of Ra peaked through from the darkened skies. Marik gritted his teeth.

_Fuck you all. You want hatred? I'll show you hatred._

The whole world slowly seemed to fill with such bright light that the intensity of it all was overwhelming. Was it possible for a creature of Light to be created from the Darkness and defeat it?

Marik wasn't sure what happened next. He had fallen onto his knees, his entire body quaking form his strength. The world was still white as he struggled to find his hand into his pocket, and clutched the locket that was just so dear to him.

_I promise I'll come back._

_

* * *

_

HOMG that was a bad chapter.

The next one will be better, I hope. I mean, it's twelve right now, I still have an exam tomorrow, and I wanted to update. Please don't be harsh, I know this as a rushed chapter. Basically if I couldn't write it right: Shadows had been controlling Marik all along that's why he was so inconsiderate/mean/crude/ evil up until now. Shadows have been helping with Ryou's hallucinations causing Ryou to forgive Marik easily and forget things easily. Bakura's hint that the memory world is all but Shadows is going to be a huge clue too for some future chapters.

And then basically, Marik found out that he was being used to try to kill Ryou for the Shadows, tried to fight back with some LIGHT power and used his copy-version of Winged Dragon of Ra Ka. Ended it kinda crappy, but Ryou's still alive, even though just barely.

I'm so sorry for this bad chapter. I'll try to make it up as soon as I can.

**Please read and review** regardless, I did like the beginning of this chapter. Anyways, please review the fourteen pages of hell in a handbasket. UGH. Stupid summer school…

Did I mention that I had rewritten this about….six times?


	28. For the Last Time

Chapter Twenty Eight: For the Last Time

The tent door was flapping again. It didnt matter. Marik couldnt sleep anyway.

His later nights had been sleepless, tiring, and exhausting. Combined with the fact that now this new revelation came to life, Marik had to watch himself every night. His Anger intake, his Rage outlet, and his Vengeance lust.

He had to keep it all down. The other night had been almost surreal when he realized that he was no longer in control of his own powers. His soul had been manipulated…just as lowly, and commonly as so many people before him.

_In the dream…he had been running away. Watching as the Shadows consumed so many others in awe, and secretly hoping that they'd continue to admire him back…just enough to spare him. _

_They were coming after him. They were going to consume him anyway. _

When Marik fled from Ryou's bedroom that night, he realized that they had already consumed him.

They had destroyed the one, rational thought he contained in his mind; forced him to believe that everything he stood for was nothing but crap. Marik, as complex as he was, realized that there were only two things he had ever really depended on: the Shadows, and Ryou's love.

The Shadows had granted him immeasurable power, which brought everything else: admiration, fear, awe, fortune, and domination. Indirectly, they had also bought him Ryou, but Marik didn't want to think about that.

Ryou instead brought him not only admiration, awe, and even domination, but somehow, even his smile seemed to make everything else in the world seem worthless. Whenever he was there, admiration, fear, and domination seemed to no longer seem significant. Unfortunately for Marik, too long a time he had spent in the Shadows, tortured by the ideas of Ryou dying, leaving, betraying. Although he thought the Shadows had no affect on him in the beginning, Marik realized that a small portion of their wicked voice had followed him home, back to Ryou's arms, where all along, they had planned to strike.

The Shadows were weakened now, merely because of Marik's exhausting attempts to keep them at bay. No longer did he offer sacrifices, and every night, he would summon the Winged Dragon of Ra to keep eye on Ryou. He didn't want Ryou to ever fall into the darkness again.

But to exert so much amount of energy every night was too much, even for Marik to handle. It had been days, nights…nearly a week since he last saw Ryou. As much as Marik knew he had to go back and apologize (something he wasn't sure if he _could_ do), this time, it wasn't Vengeance or Anger keeping him back.

Determination held him back. It made him walk outside the tent in the early twilight for hours on end, watching the sun to come out. It had made him pace back and forth in his tent, his head swarming with omni-directed thoughts. The one time he could go see Ryou, he couldn't.

Marik sighed and plopped back onto the bed. His head was aching, his body was exhausted, and his sanity was a confused mess. He laid out on his back and covered his eyes with his hand.

_I suppose I'm the idealistic picture of a tragedy, aren't I?_ he said to himself sardonically. _Great, powerful Master Marik, beaten down to a lowly commoner among the rest of the poor, forsaken souls. _

Marik bit his lip and sighed. _I'm probably forsaken now anyway. _

Ryou…

For the first moment ever, Marik began to seriously consider what his life would be like without Ryou. Before he hadn't given it much thought, but now, he realized, the fate was quite possible.

He slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out the locket. Still in immaculate condition, the little golden scarab beetle shined beautifully in the darkness of his tent. It reflected the little shimmer of moonlight that peeked into his tent, embracing it calmly and peacefully as it swung quietly from side to side.

Marik slowly flicked it open, and stared at the pictures within. His chest was suddenly tugged by twangs of pain. It had been so long since he felt that pain. Before, he had willingly fed it to the Shadows, letting them grow in power. Now, like any other human, he had to deal with it, among other emotions.

Confusion, for one. Lost was another. And also, like any other human, he now had to feel Guilt.

There wasn't a night that Marik didn't (try to) go to bed cursing at himself. Right before he slipped into bed, it was a self-punishing nightly ritual: pulling out the locket, gazing at what could possibly never happen, snapping it closed and then going, _Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. _

This night was no different. Marik snapped the locket away and put his hand over his eyes once more.

_Shit. _

He knew he had screwed up. There was no use denying it anymore. Ryou was dying, he had betrayed Ryou, and now, Ryou had to suffer the consequences.

_I don't even know if I still love him,_ Marik thought quietly to himself. _All this time I told him I didn't…even though I did deep down…and then….everything just… _

Marik sighed, rubbing his head. It hurt to think too much about anything now. He didn't want to think how screwed up the Shadows had made him; how disoriented they've created him, how confused he was now and how, deep down inside, how he was now…

…even a little bit afraid.

As much as Marik did not want to admit it, that was another emotion that was weighting down on his heart. The dread that Ryou would soon leave life forever, and the idea that he would be left behind.

He felt like a small child, looking for that guardian Light who had protected him before. He felt like as if he was lost, wanting to find that Light and follow him home, only to realize that perhaps…perhaps the Light was no longer even alive.

_What is love like? _

For once, Marik wish he did not have to be the one in the more dominant position. At one point, he had realized what love was: how he would sacrifice so much for it, how it felt, how it bonded so many people closer together, and how it felt so good. But how, he couldn't even trust his judgment, even though the question in itself seemed so simple.

_Do you love Ryou? _

Deep down inside, something told Marik that he did, but he was too confused and too busy cursing himself to think about it hard enough. He knew that love was a decision he had to create for himself, but for once, he wasn't even sure what he wanted. His memories were disoriented and a jagged mess, ripped to shreds by the Shadows. His sanity was slowly cracking under the sleepless nights he spent pondering such a thing, only to come to a pretty stupid conclusion.

_…Maybe if he loves me back… _

Marik didn't want to continue chasing for something he couldn't get, or even want. But despite his protests, something told him that it wasn't the chase he was afraid of, but what he was chasing for.

The rejection would simply be much harder to bear if he admitted that he loved Ryou first. At least if Ryou hated him, Marik had something to compare to, something to base his emotions and past on. Then Marik could go on living …moderately happily, pursuing a new life, leaving Ryou to deal with his own life.

_But is that what you want? _

He clenched his hand around the chain of the locket, and let it fall onto the bed.

_If he says no, wouldn't you still chase after him? Try to see him? Maybe even ask for a second chance? _

Marik silently groaned and raised his hands to grip his hair.

_Even if you are too afraid to ask him….at least you can do something to make it up to him. _

Make it up? How could he possibly make anything up with Ryou? Even if he did love and did ask Ryou to forgive him, where was the likely chance that that would happen?

_Even if he says goodbye…at least make him happy when he says so. _

Happy…

Marik slowly sat back up, his hands sliding away from his hair and back onto his lap. He slowly raised his head and stared out of his tent in the open moonlight, watching as the dunes whistled their quiet tune.

_Doesn't he at least deserve Happiness before he leaves? _

Marik lowered his head and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

_Happiness…even if I give it to him…will he be happy? _

He sighed.

_I've taken away too much to give them back. I would have to give him the stars in order to even repay one fraction of what I've done to him. I would have to defeat Ra himself to even deserve one half of Ryou's love. In fact… _

Marik raised his head again, and slowly stood up. He slowly walked towards the door, and brushed the curtain aside, staring out into the desert distantly.

_To prove to him that I'm worthy…to even deserve the chance for forgiveness… _

Marik paused, his hand sliding slightly on the curtain. He turned back just a bit over his shoulder, gazing distantly at the golden locket lying on his bed. The silver moonbeams complimented it beautifully as they struck its smooth, delicate surface.

_"Oh Marik…you shouldn't have…it's beautiful." _

_"Not as beautiful as you." _

Marik's shoulders sagged slightly, and he shook his head. At least one fragment of his memory was clear. At least Ryou had been happy to receive that locket when they were first together.

_I would have to give my life…just to ask for his forgiveness. _

Sighing, Marik strode back to the bed, picked up the locket, and slipped it back into his pocket. Running a hand through his hair, he picked up his cloak in the other, and wrapped it around his shoulders.

_Why should I even try? _

Marik sighed again, and closing his eyes, he did his best to make sure the Shadows were at bay. They were exhausted with the battle as much as he was, and now, since he was denying them sacrifices, they were growing slightly weaker.

But instead on feeding on everyone else's souls, they fed on his. Marik supposed the only reason why he was still alive was probably because there was no one else to feed them, should he die. Bakura's 'darkness' was now balanced by Malik's 'light', and strangely enough, the Shadows seemed to leave them well enough alone.

_They've got a good balance, I guess,_ Marik thought absent-mindedly as he searched for his pocket money. _Maybe that's why the Shadows can't hurt them as bad. _

Finding his bag of money, Marik popped that into his pocket too, and headed for the door. When the curtain flapped open, Marik paused for a moment. Arching his neck, he closed his eyes, and for a pure, tranquil moment, he appreciated the moon's breath on his face.

_Even if I can't ask for his forgiveness,_ Marik thought as he breathed in the night air. _I should at least repay everything I've done. _

With this in mind, Marik left his tent, and headed towards the village.

_After all…I should try, just to make him happy. _

* * *

Anas was working late at night once more, once again. With his father in elderly shape and his younger brother to take care of, he had a lot of work to do. His older brother was a priest, and it sucked that although Karim often sent money to support them, all of the money had to go towards his younger brother's life fund. 

That, and he was engaged as well. With Karim as a priest, Mahdi so young, Anas had to work every day and every night to support his family. Nevertheless, Anas was quite happy with his current arrangement: he loved his fiancé, his brother, and his father was still in decently good health. He supposed there were other people worse off than him.

The family business was an apothecary and a healing tent at the same time. His father had been a rather highly respected doctor, and how, older in his years, Anas has to take after him, since Karim managed to become a priest. One would think such high status brought Anas's family more fortune than any one else, but regardless, Anas still had to work very hard to keep everything up to shape.

He was digging through the barrels of the apothecary when someone came through the door. Anas looked up from the barrel, his arms still hidden within the sticky bowels, his long, black hair hanging scraggily over his eyes. The customer's face was hidden by his cloak, but Anas could see the slight flicker of annoyance when he didn't greet the customer.

Realizing his bad manners, Anas leapt from his barrel and quickly brushed his lock of hair over his head and out of the way. He smiled a friendly smile and walked around the counter, wiping his arms and hands on a rag.

"Hello. Welcome to the Taweret. I'm Anas. How can I help you?"

The stranger looked at him expressionlessly from under his hood. Without an introduction back, the man turned slightly to look around the apothecary.

"Is it common to belittle a goddess's name with a market shop?" the man asked silkily.

Anas chuckled. "Well, we thought it was fitting. Many a child have been delivered here any way." He nodded over to the sick bed in the corner. The man made a rather flat sort of grimace.

"Do you often leave your stores open so late at night?" the customer asked.

Anas nodded. "Whatever keeps the business in, you know? Plus, I mean, women and childbirth and sickness…when the pharaoh's too busy, they'll have to come here, so may as well open wide."

The man twitched slightly. Impatiently, he turned back to Anas, and looked at him directly from under the hood. Anas, being a little shorter than the man, managed to catch a glimpse of rather striking amethyst eyes.

"I hope your competence will serve me well then," the stranger said darkly. Though smaller, Anas was not a man to be intimidated with, so he merely nodded and ignored the customer's dark tone.

"But of course. Come," Anas turned around and beckoned his customer to the counter as he walked around it. Meeting his customer again, Anas smiled firmly at the man, and gestured to the shelves of medicine, balms, and healing herbs behind him. "So. What are you looking for?"

The man turned to stare at him a bit, as though analyzing him carefully. Anas inwardly sighed. Some of his customers were paranoid about confidentiality and all…Anas could only assume that the reason why this man was so hard towards him was because there was something he didn't want any one to know.

Regardless, Anas was a friendly man, as suitable to his name, and he leaned onto the counter casually. He looked back and forth between the shelves and the man, pretending that he had thought the man was looking at an item on the shelf.

"You look reasonably healthy, so I guess I'll skip that section," Anas said, raising his hand and pointing to the top shelf. "We keep most of our emergency potions there…strained muscle, perhaps? Small cough? Infection?"

The man said nothing. Anas looked back for a moment, but when the man still did not reply, Anas tried a different tactic.

"Well, we have some painkillers here…you look like a strong guy. Working out in the sun a lot…oh, we have some good balms that can protect you from the sun, that's good. So what would you like? Cough syrup? Pain remedies? Anesthetics?" Anas briefly looked back at the man, and noted the hard, deep scowl. _Laughing gas, maybe,_ Anas thought to himself. _Geez this guy needs to smile more often… _

The man continued to gaze at him, as though trying to find out why he was being so friendly. Anas smiled and leaned back, allowing his customer to take his time.

"My father is sleeping right now, but if you wish, I could give you a small checkup," Anas offered. The man continued to stare at him for a few more moments, before turning back to the shelf.

"Whipping."

Startled, Anas shook his head, standing upright. "Excuse me?"

The man returned his cold, amethyst stare. "Whip wounds. What do you have for whip wounds?"

Anas tried his best to hide his confusion, but quickly turned to look onto the shelf. "How severe are the whip marks?" he asked, knowing that the best way to deal with customers of suspicious wounds was to stay on topic. The man paused for a moment, before speaking again.

"Moderately healed," he said. Anas nodded.

"I see. How intense is the pain? Are you picky about pain? We have a balm here that might help…it's quick and will help heal the wound very quickly, but it's a rather acidic and very painful…"

The man stayed silent. Anas looked back and tried to analyze his customer, before frowning at his shelf.

"Here," Anas said finally. He picked up a jar and placed it on the counter. "This ointment isn't acidic, so it won't inflame the skin. Although it's not the fastest medicine we have to recover whip wounds, it is one of the more…comforting ones. If you have sensitive skin or you're prone to infection, you're probably better off with this." Anas tapped the lid. "It's not meant for deep wounds though. It's best to apply it when the wound is just scarring, so it heals more quickly and efficiently. It doesn't cost much. Would you like it?"

Anas looked up at the man, and noticed the man staring at him strangely again. Anas sighed and smiled at the stranger.

"If you don't mind, sir, who is this ointment for?" Anas asked. The man seemed to stiffen and from beneath the hood, his amethyst eyes seemed to glower. Once again, Anas was not an easy person to intimidate, so he merely looked away.

"Sorry, sir," Anas apologized. "I shouldn't intrude. You just didn't seem to be hurt."

The man was silent for a moment, before he finally spoke.

"You haven't been working long, have you?" he asked.

Anas laughed and turned back to the man. "What gave me away?"

"The fact that you have not let learned that trust is not a free thing to give," the man said. Anas sighed dramatically.

"Sorry, sir," Anas apologized. "Things just have been a bit busy lately. I'm letting my guard down."

"You shouldn't let weakness pull you down," the man replied. Anas raised his eyebrow.

"Really?" he said, surprised. "Personally, I don't believe that. Weakness is there for a reason."

"And what reason is that?"

"If we were born without weakness, Ra would not be our god," Anas explained simply. "Weakness allows us to have a moment to ourselves. To let us take a break. If we had no weaknesses, we'd be like Ra himself."

The man stared at him blankly. Anas sighed and smiled.

"Sorry. I get philosophical a lot. My brother's a priest, so I think he's rubbing off on me."

"Your brother is a priest?" the man repeated. Anas nodded and returned to the shelf.

"Yep, he is," Anas said, running his fingers along the labels. "Introduced me to my fiancé. We're going to get married soon." Anas paused and looked over his shoulder. He grinned. "But enough about me. What else are you looking for?"

The man blinked, before returning to gaze at the jars.

"…What do you have for fevers?"

"Fever?" Anas suddenly lost his smile and frowned. "How bad is the fever?"

The man paused.

"Very severe," he said, after a while.

Anas nodded seriously, and quickly ducked for a small stepladder. He climbed onto it and looked onto the top shelf, fingering each jar impatiently.

"How long has the fever been present?" Anas asked. Fevers were a dangerous thing among Egypt. Depending on the person's Ba and Ka, a fever could carry infections, destroy the system, and most likely, kill the victim if there for too long. A fever was always among top priority for Anas and his father's apothecary.

When the man replied, there was an almost regretful, sad tone in his voice. "A few weeks."

Anas' eyes jumped open and he turned to stare at the man incredulously. "A few _weeks_?"

The man nodded. Anas lowered himself off the stepladder and looked at the man sharply in the eye. "Obviously the fever has been helped before. What did you take before?"

"What do you mean?"

"What have you done before to destroy the fever?" Anas clarified. The man paused again.

"…We've had a healing ritual," the man explained, a bit softly. Anas arched his eyebrow.

"A healing ritual? Performed by my brother? Surely then whoever you are taking care of should be healed then."

"It wasn't your brother that healed him," the man said impatiently. "But we had to use the ritual twice. Apparently there was something wrong with his lungs. Some sort of sickness he's always had since he was a child."

Anas frowned, and slowly braced himself on the counter. He stared up at the man, thinking deeply. "…I know I said I didn't want to intrude, but I'm afraid you're going to have to tell me what your friend's body is like. I wouldn't want to give him anything that's going to make him worse."

The man bit his lip and the amethyst glow in his eyes intensified sharply beneath his shadowed hood.

"What makes you think you can save him?"

"I'll do the best, regardless if I can," Anas replied shortly. "Now, you'll have to tell me. We don't want this fever progressing any more than it has to. What is your friend's body like?"

The man paused, as though he were thinking very deeply.

"…He's very weak right now," the man said. "We've had two rituals for him, once because of his wounds, and once for his fever and his lungs. Apparently he has some sort of sickness that makes it hard for his lungs to breathe…consumption, I believe. He's had it since he a child."

"Consumption," Anas breathed. "Forgive me for saying, but your friend should be dead by now."

"He's had medical help before," the man explained. "It would only get severe if he was stressed or extremely sick. He had a fever already before he got hurt…his fever only got worse after he got hurt."

Anas nodded slowly. "Alright. How is he doing now? Are his wounds healed? Is he in any immediate pain?"

The man nodded slowly back. "…He's always in pain," the man said quietly.

Anas bit his lip and returned to the top of his ladder. "I assume your friend hallucinates too?" Anas called down, as he rummaged through the many bottles.

"Yes," the man replied, sounding surprised. "How did you know?"

Anas bundled a couple of bottles in his arms and came back down. "Ra tends to make his creations based on different strengths and weaknesses. You said that your friend got easily sick when he was stressed? He must be a spiritual boy then." Anas placed the jars on the table. "There are some people in the world who are susceptible to sickness easily based on their Ka. Some people in this world depend on their Ba. From what you tell me, he seems to be a rather …fragile person, isn't he?" Anas looked up, and the man nodded fractionally. "I see. Well, normally people like your friend depend their health on their spirituality. What they feel that day, what makes them tick, what makes them live. Only when they are happy are they healthy, and only then will they continue to live in such a way."

Anas picked up a bottle and examined it carefully, his eyebrows furrowing at the label. The man snorted.

"That sounds like a lot of bullshit to me."

"..." Anas briefly raised his eyebrows at the customer. "Be that as it may, it's simply something I've noticed among my patients. Spirit, soul, and health all intermingle with one another. Can anyone truly live without a soul, a spirit, and happiness? I doubt it. One would die long before then."

"Only if they have nothing to live for."

"Having no soul, no spirit, no happiness isn't much of a life to live for, in some people's eyes," Anas said, putting down the bottle and picking up another. "What other wounds does your friend have?"

The man lowered his head in thought. "He has….many bruises," he recalled. "…Inflamed skin….maybe even a broken rib."

Anas put down his bottle abruptly and stared at the man incredulously. "Why haven't you asked for another ritual already? What the heck happened to your friend?"

The man stiffened and reached out towards a small gourd. "…He was getting better before," he said quietly, fingering the neck of the gourd absently. "…He just got a little beaten up yesterday…he hadn't been getting sleep or eating much…"

Anas whistled lowly and looked at his customer seriously. "You better get your friend to a priest or this apothecary fast. I'm surprised he held out as long as he did."

"There wouldn't be much you could do for him," the man said shortly. "Even the Priestess couldn't heal him entirely. She believed that if she went too far, he would no longer be able to bear with the pain and his soul would break."

"That's one of the principles of the Ka/Ba theory," Anas explained, nodding his head. "It's not a wide-known theory, but I've seen it in people before. Your friend must have an awfully strong spirit to have something so chronic for so long."

"Believe me, you wouldn't be able to help him much."

Anas sighed and shook his head, pushing away some bottles with his hand. "I suppose not. All I have are these potions. The Priests and their help are the best you can give to someone of the sick. All I can do is …try to help." He pointed to the gourd. "If you let him drink that, he'll probably sleep dreamless for many nights. I assume since he hallucinates, he dreams nightmares too, correct?"

The man nodded. Anas continued.

"This bottle is for his lungs," Anas pointed to the next one, with a much taller neck and a wider bottom. "It's full of iron and lots of minerals to help the blood breathe and refreshed, so it won't tire so easily from defeating germs. I would only recommend a small dosage once per meal."

The man's gaze followed as Anas continued to give his curt instructions. He held up a jar of pills.

"This is nowhere as close to whatever the priests got," Anas said, wrinkling his nose distastefully, "but I tried my best. It's of my own concoction, but it's nowhere as good as what they serve up at the palace. If you give this to him once every night, it will help tranquilize his convulsions, and even minimize his pain. It can't, however, protect his lungs from breathing improperly."

Anas sighed and scooped the rest of the jars and bottles against the previously mentioned antidotes. He braced himself on the counter once more and looked up at the man seriously.

"Everything here is cool to help keep his temperature down," Anas explained. "The rest is all for his wounds and preventing internal and external infection. But all you can do now other than to give him all this is to make sure he's cool enough, eating enough, and sleeping enough."

"…What should I feed him?" asked the man, sounding a bit hollow, as though he was too busy trying to intake everything at once. Anas scratched his head.

"Soup, broth," he finally said. "I don't trust that your friend can take solids right now. Give him as much water as possible and lots of broth and soup. Keep his body fresh." Anas stood up and crossed his arms over his shoulder, his long black hair trailing over his elbows. "You should've come to me when he was initially sick, sir," Anas said, falling back to his teenage-clerk position. "We wouldn't need all this if you came in earlier."

The man's face, although darkened already by his hood, seemed to glower even darker beneath the hood. Anas sighed and shook his head.

"It's alright. Accidents happen. What happened to your friend anyway? Displeased the master?"

The man suddenly bristled and jerked his head upright. Anas was startled to see how brightly those amethyst eyes were glaring from the darkness of the hood. They seemed to be shining a strikingly harsh lavender, as though daring him to say anything more. Anas sighed.

"Sorry, sorry. I have to keep on remembering not to intrude."

Slowly, Anas looked away, turning to begin filing out the sheets for the man's purchase and medication. He paused only when the customer's voice floated softly from the hood.

"Why do you care so much?"

Anas paused in his writing, his quill scratching in mid-air. "…Curiosity, I suppose," Anas smiled faintly. "I always like helping people. It makes me feel good."

"You are married?" the man asked suddenly. Anas blinked for a moment, before noticing the man's gaze on his ring finger. Anas laughed, and this time, it was a good, wholesome-hearted, tender laugh.

"Yeah," he said, fingering the ring fondly. "I'm a lucky man."

"Who is she?" the man asked. Anas was surprised with this line of questioning, but answered regardless.

"A beautiful woman," Anas smiled. "Both inside, and outside. She's ..hardworking, tender…and she has…the most beautiful eyes you've ever seen." Anas looked down on his ring finger and rolled it tenderly around his finger. "…I was so worried when she came home yesterday," Anas admitted. "She had been at the bar with a couple of friends of mine…they were trying to show her a good time." Anas smiled sheepishly and scratched his head awkwardly. "…I guess I should've been there for her," Anas admitted quietly.

The man was quiet for a few moments. "What happened?" the stranger finally asked.

Anas sighed tiredly, and closed his eyes. "I was still working here, so I didn't know what was going on at the bar. When they came home, my friends told me about it. Apparently some jerk – ass who called himself a captain was hitting on her. If it hadn't been for someone in that bar that night, I may have just lost her then."

After grabbing a chair, Anas slowly lowered himself into it, suddenly looking years older and much more tired. "If I ever meet that guy, I have to thank him," Anas said, smiling up at the customer. "He saved her life. It's only too bad she couldn't get a good look at him. I would've done anything to repay my debt to him for taking such good care of her."

The man was once more, quiet and solemn for a long time. Anas sighed and shook his hair back and tied it into a ponytail to keep it away from his face. He turned back to the man.

"Is there anything else I can do?" Anas asked, a considerate, soft tone to his voice. "If you want, you can bring your friend here. Everything's confidential here. Not a word to anyone and not a question asked."

The stranger was still silent, but slowly lifted his head. His amethyst eyes had now lost their initial sharp, piercing intensity, and was now a sort of hard, deadened look.

"I honestly don't think you can help him," he said simply. Anas lowered his head.

"He's that bad, huh?" Anas asked. "…Well, I guess there really isn't much I can do, but I would like to help. He sounds like he's in really bad shape." Anas raised his head. "You're really concerned for him, aren't you?"

The man bristled suddenly. "What makes you think that?"  
"Just how you talk about him," Anas replied, smiling. "You just seem so worried about him. He must care for you very deeply."

The man lowered his head and turned away. "I honestly doubt that."

Anas slowly stood up, and carefully approached his customer. "I'm sure he does," Anas said gently. "…We can talk about it if you want."

The man said nothing. Anas slowly took another step further.

"Or maybe---"

Suddenly, the door burst open, and a little boy ran inside. Rudely, the boy hurtled past the customer, knocking the man to the side. The boy then turned around the corner of the counter and into Anas's arms. Anas's eyes widened.

"Mad'hi!" he scolded angrily. "What are you doing so late out at night? And apologize to the man you just hit!"

The boy pouted behind his black bangs, and both he and Anas turned to apologize to the customer. Anas's eyes widened.

"Whoa…"

When his younger brother had scrambled past the customer, the stranger's cloak had fallen away. Now they revealed spikes of golden hair and unblemished, tanned skin. A simple, golden collar was strung around the man's throat, and for a moment, Anas couldn't help but stare.

Mad'hi in his arms was quiet. The man's eyes flickered briefly to Mad'hi, and they seemed to focus suddenly in thought.

"I remember you," Mad'hi said quietly. Marik nodded.

"I remember you too," he said solemnly. His eyes flickered back to Anas. "So you are all related. Go figures. If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to make my payment now."  
Anas nodded and put Mad'hi down. Mad'hi stood on his tiptoes and watched as Anas gathered all the medicines in a bag. A little frown creased over the boy's face.

"…The boy you were looking for," Mad'hi said quietly. He looked up at Marik. "Is he getting better?"

Marik stiffened, and turned to look at Mad'hi sharply. "What do you mean? How do you know who all this is for?"

Mad'hi shrugged and sat onto the high chair that Anas was previously sitting in. "…Anas doesn't let me go into the dungeons, but I was trying to find Karim…I saw your friend."

Marik stiffened. "Really?"

Mad'hi nodded and Anas shot him an annoyed, scolding look. "He was crying a lot," Mad'hi said quietly, as he watched Anas pack up everything. "I didn't really see him well…I got…a little afraid."

Anas stood and looked at Mad'hi in a sharp frown. "Mad'hi, you know better than to be in places like that. Karim wouldn't have been happy."

Mad'hi nodded. "I know. I…I was just hiding from them at first…and I heard him cry a lot." Mad'hi paused and looked at the bulging bag. "Is he still hurt?" he asked, eyes wide with concern.

Marik paused and reached over to the bag. "Yes," he said finally. "Yes, he's still hurt."

Mad'hi nodded. "He sounded really bad…they were really mean to him."

"What do you mean?" Marik asked, trying to sound disinterested.

"They were laughing at him," Mad'hi said quietly. "They kept on asking him to prove something…they told him they'd kill someone if he didn't." Mad'hi reached over and helped Anas tie the bag up. "I hope he gets better," Mad'hi said. "He sounded really sad."

Marik said nothing and picked up his bag. He was shuffling around for money when Anas spoke.

"If your friend ever needs any help, you know where to come," Anas smiled. "I've seen the brutality of things like that. If you ever need any help, we can always talk." Anas saw the money in Marik's hand and shook his head. "Keep the money. I can't take money from someone who saved my fiancé's life." He raised his head and saw Marik's surprised expression. "A buddy told me how you looked like from underneath the cloak. It's not hard to find someone with blond hair and purple eyes."

Marik stood, dumbfounded. Regardless, he placed the coins onto the countertop.

"Keep the change," Marik said. He looked past Anas and over to the shelf. "Do you think he'll get better?"

Anas picked up a coin and stared at it distantly.

"If he doesn't, be sure to tell me," Anas said quietly. "But you know…he's a really lucky guy to have you as a friend." Anas looked back up. "Hang in there, dude. Ra works in mysterious ways."

"So do I," Marik replied. He picked up his goods and headed for the door. "So do I."

Last minute, he turned back around, and flung his choker at Anas. Anas looked at it bewilderedly, having never even touched such an amount of gold before.

Marik smirked. "Thanks."

And then he left.

* * *

So there he was, once more in front of Ryou's door. This time, however, Marik forced himself not to contemplate about anything...rather, he focused instead on forcing the Shadows away from this vicinity, and allowing Ryou a decent recovery. 

Without sacrifice, the Shadows were weak. Marik took advantage of this and made sure to suppress them to the best of his ability, and slowly slipped into Ryou's room.

He didn't dare look at Ryou, merely forcing himself to go to the small table. Quietly, he unpacked everything that he had gotten, and placed them on the table. He took his time, organizing them to the best of his ability. That corner for Ryou's fever, this corner for Ryou's bruises, that one for Ryou's whip scars, and finally, Ryou's pills.

Very quietly, Marik even took out a special little something. Although it didn't seem to have much of a presence, it seemed to Marik a shrine of Light...a personal little shrine to help keep the evils away from Ryou's bed. It may not have truly helped, but Marik liked the look of it as he placed the two, wooden dolls in the center of the table. The black-armoured Marik-doll stood tall and proud in the dim candlelight, whilst Ryou...adorable, white-magician Ryou, stood next to Marik, shy and sweet.

Since white-magician Ryou's clothes were actually made of silk, one could not even tell that the doll had once been cracked to pieces. Marik had slowly painted over the cracks on Ryou's neck and face, so that once more, wooden-doll-Ryou looked flawless.

With the preparations at hand, Marik slowly sank onto his chair. With a sense of dread, Marik turned and looked at Ryou's withering, dying form.

He looked the same as his pervious sick self. Except this time, he was not crying. His breaths were short and soft, barely audible, and his whole body had curled in a miserable position of defeated hope.

Gently, Marik eased Ryou out of his position and tucked the boy in. He carefully slid a wet cloth over Ryou's forehead and left it there.

_I really don't know what to do,_ Marik said softly. _I don't even know what Love is. But maybe...when you get better, you can show me again._

So forth, as Marik sat there, watching Ryou in his unconsciousness, began a long road of hardship and recovery.

* * *

Anas, Mad'hi, a couple of guards and Anas's wife are all my craetions. Oh yeah, and Arsinoe, but we can forget abuot her. 

I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. This was supposed to be the last chapter before I started doing something strange: Marik-Ryou present POVs! So for the next few chapters, a lot of the story is going to be told from Marik's and Ryou's point of view. Finally, we are actually following the schedule here! I haven't had a plot-chapter for a while now! The last few had just been sort of...fillers.

Anyways, we are back on track, and yay, we're almost halfway point thruogh plot. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Anas was fun to write, and I hope you guys liked him too.

Read and review! For once, I don't feel too badly about a chapter.


	29. Delirium

Twenty pages! Twenty pages! This chapter really isn't much; mostly fluff, angst, and plot, I guess. You know, the basic skeleton. XD It's a bit plain, nothing really speical, but it was needed, so I hope you guys will still review and critique it.

TWENTY PAGES! -dies-

**Anyways, read, enjoy and please review!**

**Btw, YOU guess who's talking at which point in time. This whole chapter is supposed to flow in a nice, dreamy-like, heart-felt sequence. :)**

* * *

Chapter Twenty Nine: Delirium

Sometimes, I try to see him. I know he's there…I can feel him. And yet, somehow, my eyes always seem too heavy to open, to lift…my hands tremble, but they never move, my fingers twitch, but they never grasp onto anything.

_When I can open my eyes, it's hard to tell what's going on. Everything looks yellow to me, and sometimes, the world seems to blur into a color of black that I don't know what's real and what's a dream…or a nightmare._

_I can't tell how often he's there…but when I do realize it, I always try my best to talk to him. To whisper at least something to him…something like "I'm sorry," or "Please forgive me"…sometimes I'm afraid to talk at all though, in case I might make him upset and leave me again. I'm scared that he'll go. I'm so scared that I'll scare him away, that I don't dare touch him. I try, because I need him, need to know he's here…all the time…but I'm afraid at the same time---afraid that he'll hit me again, curse at me again, and worse of all, leave me again._

_And even if I want to hold him, or touch him, or speak to him, I can't. My arms feel too heavy to lift, my fingers feel too weak to curl, and worse of all, my mouth can't speak at all. My throat is so dry and raw that I can only cough…so whatever I try to tell him…usually it's "I'm sorry"…it never comes out right. It comes twisted, mutilated, racked with blood-drenched coughs and the stench of sick…and in the end, I always end up wasting breath anyway._

_But sometimes…I can feel him holding me. He feeds me sometimes, when I am slightly awake. He pushes me up against the wall and presses a spoon against my lips. And even then, when I'm too weak to open my eyes, or to even part my lips, he presses his hand on the back of my head, steadying me, guiding me to the spoon. Sometimes, I feel like crying when he does this…mostly out of confusion, or maybe the feeling of being pathetic…I can't even get better by myself, I still need his help to feed me…_

_I can't even see his face. When he tucks me back into bed, all I can make out is a brown-yellowblur that hangs over me. I can't even tell where his bangs start and his spikes end. Sometimes I wonder if it's really him, but when I feel his hand gripping my chin, or when he presses his wrist against my forehead…I know that touch. It's him, I'm sure of it._

_Sometimes I wonder why he returned. Why he came back. When I realize what's going on during that point, I try to ask him, but my voice always ending up sounding like whimpering gibberish. And usually, he even hushes me and tells me to rest…or sometimes he says nothing at all. When that happens, usually he presses a finger against my lips, and I know that's his way of telling me not to speak._

_I wish I could say sorry, at least…or at least…explain to him what went wrong…tell him that I still love him, that when I was taken away, I honestly had thought that I would never see him again…despite all that he did, deep down, I knew I loved him. I still love him now, because I know this is not who he is. Maybe this kind, gentle Marik that's taking care of me now is a fake, and maybe the Marik that hurt me and left me and took me against my will was real…I don't know. All I know is that whichever Marik is taking care of me now…the kind, gentle one that holds me when he feeds me and hushes me to sleep…this Marik is the one I fell in love with in Battle City. This is the man whom at some point, I feared, but later admired for his strength, his stamina, and his courage._

_Maybe I was being stupid then, and maybe I'm still stupid now, but something in me had always told me that Marik was not as evil as he seemed. He was not as cruel as he let on. He reminded a little of Bakura-sama when Bakura-sama came out for the first time too….hell-bent, raged, fueled with darkness. But Bakura-sama grew more human after he felt weakness, when he felt life, when he felt love. One can't stay Darkness for life. And I think sometime during then, I realized that Marik was just a late bloomer when it came to realizing he was human too…and maybe I saw through his Darkness act because of Bakura, because I ended up falling in love with him._

_He provided me with a foundation I never realized I could have. He gave me a sense of stability and protection I thought I could never feel. He wasn't possessive in the sense of Bakura-sama's way…twisted, cold…possessing me as if I was only a vessel, nothing more. No…despite whatever Marik originally planned for me, he ultimately gave me what I knew I lacked…someone to listen, someone to care for, someone to protect and care for me back. And best of all, at that time, _he loved me back.

_I don't know what's going on right now. I can't tell if I'm dreaming, or if I'm awake, or if I'm going mad. I suppose I've always been delusional when I was this sick…Bakura-sama used to mock me with them. Sometimes I get scared that this is all a dream…that Marik isn't real, and isn't taking care of me, but just some desperate infringement of my imagination that's creating a fake-Marik to give me blind hope. And sometimes when I feel unusually depressed or emotional, I tend to think that this is the truth, and that's when I get terrified when I feel a hand pressing against my face._

_He rarely touches me; I think that's because maybe he still hates me. I get confused too, often…if he hates me, why did he return? Why was he being so gentle? If I actually went by logic, then indeed, this kind, gentle Marik was indeed just piece of imagination that I created out of my pathetic hopes and dreams. When this happens, I get scared of the hand that occasionally strokes my hair, or caresses my cheeks. Some part of me screams in terror, "It's not Marik, don't let yourself succumb!" while the other part whines, "It's Marik…let him hold me, please…I want to touch him badly…feel him…"_

_In which case, when in doubt, I just curl into a tight ball and let him do whatever he wishes. At least that way, I neither yield nor fight the touch. Sometimes when I do this, I start to shake, and then his hand pauses midway in his caressing, and then the caressing stops. I can only whine and whimper pitifully to try to communicate about my need for his touch…or more specifically, Marik's touch…without evoking some sick, perverted serial killer soldier to take me into the bed. _

_He's touching me again now. Stroking my hair. He rarely speaks, and when he does, it's usually to tell me to open my eyes, open my mouth, lie on my back, spread my legs…or when he's about to take of my bandages. I hate it when he takes off my bandages. It hurts so much and I never have anyone to hold on to. I wish I could hold onto him, but what if it wasn't him? What if it was some sick soldier that was toying with me and my mind was playing tricks with me? And if it was Marik, what if he didn't want me to hold onto him? What if he got mad? What if I screwed it up? And he left?_

_He's whispering something in my ear, but I can barely hear him. Fuzzing noises. Buzzing noises. I whimper in confusion and try to open my eyes, but that takes too much effort, and I end up panting and whining as the heat around my face boils up another hundred fold. I can get dizzy even by turning over in bed. _

_I still can't hear him, but he's patting my back and tugging lightly on my bandages. I think he's changing them now. I try to tell him that I don't want to, but all that comes out is a weak whine and nothing more. He ignores me and pushes me onto my stomach, and begins to peel off the strips one by one._

_It only really hurts when it uncovers the bruises. Most of my cuts have healed by now, but underlying the skin, they still sting a bit. Because of my fever, I think I can feel them even more prominently. Either way, I hate it when I have to get rebandaged. It also reminds me that this stranger-Marik is also touching me. I'm afraid that if the stranger is a stranger and touching me, and I'm afraid that if Marik is Marik and touching me, he might see what he doesn't want to see. I might screw something up again._

_He spreads my legs and I give a frightened cry and try to press them back together. He holds them apart and I begin to cry, helpless against this illusion-reality stranger-Marik that may be doing lecherous things behind me where I cannot see him. I brace myself for his thick penetration, waiting for the burning heat to jam itself into my body…_

_…Nothing._

_Instead, one steady finger slowly slides into my passageway, and it's very cool. It slips in and out a few times before disappearing all together, and stranger-Marik releases my legs. I curl up again and cry some more, because I'm never really sure what happens. I just wish that if he was Marik, he would say something to me, something that would make me feel better about my current position. At least if he said something like, "I still hate you", I could still be able to take it, and understand how life is supposed to be for me now. But this…hanging listlessly, waiting for him to make the move, unsure if I'm destroying what's left of our shattered relationship…I want to cherish those broken pieces if I can, not crush them further!_

_Usually with this mindset, I tend to cry until I fall asleep. Sometimes, when I cry so hard that I begin to convulse or shake violently, stranger-Marik hits me across the face. I don't know why he does it…maybe he still hates me…maybe he's not Marik at all…but he hits me once and hard, and usually, I'm unconscious by then. When I'm not crying so hard, or hard enough to start shaking and mumbling gibberish, Marik sometimes puts a hand on my back and rubs my curled spine until I sleep. I cherish the moments when he takes the first move and I don't have to worry about screwing something up. _

* * *

_His face is so warm. It's even warmer than I've ever felt before. His skin used to be a nice, smooth white, but now it's yellow, sallow, glowing red around his cheeks. His hair is damp and smells strange…I think it's from him sweating so much. He hasn't had a decent shower for a week, I'm guessing. That's not good._

_I don't dare to wash him, though. He cries so often and mumbles about spirits and ghosts or invisible things that come after him that I'm apprehensive to touch him. I imagine that if I did carry him into the tub and stripped him bare and began to wash him, he'd panic and flail in the water and he might drown. I don't think he even recognizes me enough to realize that I lo-…that I'm trying to help him._

_He panics and flails even when I touch him sometimes in bed. I understand that me stripping away his bandages and coating his passageway in ointment may bring him back memories, but he trusted me so willingly before. Despite what he was most fearful of…his healing, me taking him against his will once more…he would tough it up as long as I was there._

_Sometimes I wonder if I am the only reason that Ryou's made it this far. Some part of me likes to think so, that maybe I did serve as some vital part of his recovery, but a larger amount of me denies it. I was the one to initially cause his suffering, wasn't I? I am still confused by this prospect…looking back, I hadn't realized I hurt him…that badly. I suppose me over reacting started everything…but still…Ryou still trusted me, I still saved him…does that make everything better?_

_Of course not…not when I know it now. He is sick and suffering because of me, I know it. And worse yet, I don't know if I …care for him in that sense that he wants me to. I'm not sure what possessed me to come back in the first place. The dreams…they were simply so realistic, I suppose I came back to just check if he was still doing alright. What possessed me to stay, I have no idea._

_After all, he is afraid of me now. I touch him, he cries. I feed him, he cries. I wash his face and bathes his arms in cold water and he still cries. I don't know why he cries so much…I've done everything I can for him, and yet, it's still not enough._

_I try my best not to touch him often. I'm hesitant that I'll make him cry and spasm more, and also hesitant that I might…like his touch more than I should._

_I wonder what will happen when he does get better. Will I stay? I suppose I will…after all, I came back. But will I…care for him?_

_I sigh. Somehow, initially, it was not supposed to be like this. I was attracted to him out of pure curiosity. I had never known anyone lighter than my own 'lighter' half, and I could not understand why Bakura could throw away such a Light so carelessly. I could understand why the Pharaoh was fond of his brat, but I could not understand why Bakura was needlessly cruel to his own. Didn't he need his vessel?_

_I suppose I was not all that caring to my vessel either. Malik created me and I killed his father…although I still consider that a favor to the community in general. Still…just the aura of this boy…his pretty, girlish, innocent boy who has never learned hate or anger or anguish…how could Bakura just throw him away?_

_Looking back, perhaps that's what Bakura regarded me to as well. He cared for Malik greatly, and Malik cared for him back. I could not understand why. Malik was rebellious, crude, and very stubborn. Bakura's vessel would've been perfect… a soft, quiet girly-boy who I didn't have to destroy to control…being Ryou's darker half would've been having my cake and eating it too. I would have a soft, gentle, quiet push-over that I could control without fight, and still be able to play with him afterwards. By the way Bakura was doing it, he was just forcing himself into Ryou all the time, regardless of the other traits Ryou could've offered._

_I don't remember thinking clearly about my relationship with Ryou on the blimp. I met him, it was fun to control his little life, trying to smother what little spirit he did had…but I suppose he showed me something different along the way. He actually, if I could believe it…cared._

_It felt so strange the first time, having someone worry over you…or care for you, or ask you how you were…One night, I remember awaking in sweat---my scars had been inflamed again. The next morning when I went to visit Ryou I barely spoke, but somehow, watching him made me forget the pain that was swarming my back. And somehow, I think he noticed, and somehow, just him asking how I was seemed to make the pain disappear completely. As gruff as my voice was at the time, I wasn't lying when I told him that I was fine. _

_When I was first with him, I never gave a second thought as to what I was feeling. I suppose some part of me accepted it willingly, almost hungrily. I suppose I liked the feeling I experienced with him---this feeling of warmth and glowing radiance that I've never felt before…Was it….was it love?_

_At any rate, that feeling of warmth and glowing radiance became my lifeline, my ecstasy. Just as how normal, good people often took occasional risk to feel that pleasurable shiver of doing something completely opposite…that was what I dwelled with. I plunged recklessly into Ryou's life, firstly out of innocent curiosity, and later, out of my dependence on it. I needed that light, that warmth. _

_And on some underlying level, I think my psychology kicked in with that. Other than the fact that I craved his light and warmth daily, he _belonged to me._ He was not the Pharaoh's friend, nor Yuugi's---not even Bakura regarded him any higher than a vessel. He was mine, all mine, all mine to protect and hold and ravish all the time and any time I wanted to. He was mine to take care of, mine to kiss, mine to whisper words of affection and mine only. This gave the feeling of utmost security…the fact that not only was I a dominating pharaoh, but also that I had one person who needed to rely on me. I was his foundation, his savior. He needed me. And somehow, that made me feel special. In fact, having Ryou mine made having all of the world's riches and military armies and lands at my hand pale in comparison. They didn't need me or appreciate me as much as Ryou does._

_I know this comparison because while we were apart, my mind, no matter what I did, kept on drifting back to him. No matter what I did to try to satiate my need for conquest, my lust for dominance, my quest for utmost totalitarianism and ultimate power…nothing gave me even half to the same feeling as I would get if I was just sitting next to Ryou. I tried my best to satisfy my needs; I killed 'innocents', I tortured 'innocents'…I even took a leaf out of Bakura's book and burned an entire village in the dark of night. I committed all the most horrendous crimes and even required my new army and allegiance, and yet, nothing worked._

_I even attempted to start a new plan at overthrowing the Pharaoh, whose name I know realize is Atemu. It quite peeves me that Bakura already knows that name long before I do, and he can barely even read the scriptures at this time. I have tried to plan an attack for the Pharaoh, but Atemu, I have discovered, is not entirely like the Pharaoh I met during Battle City. His spunk has increased, and instead of being solemn and noble and dead serious every time, I have noticed that he tends to do rather cheeky things in the absence of his priests. I had hoped that perhaps this cheekiness could be his undoing, and that's when I realized that this attitude was remarkably similar to Bakura's, and that whatever tactic I tried, probably would fail. Atemu simply is too busy wrapped around Bakura's little finger to notice any attacks on his life. _

_Atemu and Bakura and I…we are all Darknesses, and yet, we defer so greatly from one another. Atemu is noble, daring, and as I've recently found out, actually soft-hearted and very cheeky. He is extremely adventurous and always tries to find time to relax from his Pharaoh role. Bakura is risky, reckless, cocky, and once again, cheeky. His attitude is so rough and blunt that he reminds me highly of sandpaper. And although his heart is weighted in grief and anger, I have seen him with Malik, and often those times, I stare and wonder how he can still smile like that, after all he has been though._

_Atemu as well. Despite Egypt most likely going to explode in pieces by the near future, he is carefree. Both of them somehow, despite their misery, find some way to make up their Darkness with some of their own Light. Is this because…Bakura and Atemu are actually humans, while I am truly a monster created from hate and anger? _

_Is this why it is so much harder for me to find Light in my life as well, to balance my inner psyche? Even without their respective Lights (Ryou or Malik on Bakura's part, and Yugi on Atemu's) both the thief and the Pharaoh seem to be complete without them. Malik also seems to be complete without Bakura---he has his moments of hate, his moments of anguish, his moments of tears, and his moments of joy. _

_And I?_

_For most of my existence, I realize that I've only really experience Hate, Vengeance, Anger and Jealousy. I was created out of a majority of these four things; not one speck of "light"-worthy quality makes up my being. I watch Atemu and Bakura from afar and often times, I find myself getting jealous. Despite their strange, Fate-warped lives, both of them are still human, still experience their own unique balance of Darkness and Light, and they still can function their emotions normally. And I? What Light is there in my life?_

_…_

_But what I feel for him does not seem to be what it should be. I asked him what this feeling was like, a long time ago, when I promised to take him to the festival and I could not. What I have so far realized in my twisted life does not match his description of what it should feel like. Is he the only Light I have in my life?_

"Love is…w-when two people care for one another…"

_Do I care for him? Well…I suppose I do; I'm caring for him now…._

"…love feels like…when you can trust someone. ."

_Do I trust him? I used to…can I still trust him? _

"…When you can…reply on that one person…know that they are there when you need them…"

_I rely on him…despite my pride. I need this warmth that he gives. I depend on it._

"… that when they're there, you're safe…"

_…I feel, so much more stabilized when I'm with him, as though my life really isn't a swirling mass of bitter mayhem._

"I feel warm…"

_Yes…_

"…really happy…"

_Yes…._

"…because the one I love is always there…"

…_I could not live when I was away from him…_

"When I'm in pain…"

_Yes…_

"Or when I'm sad…"

_I usually am…_

"…then it's like…"

_…yes?_

"…I can do anything…."

…_Yes…_

"And when they're really close…"

_Like you are now?_

"…you feel, as though you can do anything….whether it be, the silliest of things or the greatest of things…"

_I have done silly things with you…I've tickled you and teased with you and sewed with you…and I've also conquered Bakura with you by my side…_

"…or the stupidest of things…"

…_that I have done…as well._

"…But it wouldn't matter, because the stupidest things don't matter..."

_Really?_

"..because those things don't matter, not to your other… o-or at least…"

_Despite everything I've done, stupid as they are, will you truly----?_

"…not to me…."

_What I've done, you don't care? After I've beaten and hurt and betrayed and raped and left you? None of that affects whatever you feel for me?_

"…the stupid things don't matter…they can always go forgiven…"

_Will you forgive me? _

"…stupid things…can be erased…"

_Forgive me and love me?_

"…That's why, they don't matter…"

_Please?_

_He's quiet now. He's stopped mumbling and crying. I stare at him distantly, now just realizing that my memory of his voice is too vivid for my liking. But despite all that, I must hear. I have to._

"…not when…"

_I grab his hand and press it to my lips. He's unconscious; he can't feel me. Or see me as I close my eyes and pray against his beautiful skin._

_Please love me…_

"…I love you…"

* * *

_He's sleeping soundly now. It's been a while since I've last rebandaged him. Yet, I don't want to wake him up. He looks so precious like this…breathing softly, quietly, gently, like a little angel amass of great cloud of white linen cloths. It's so rare to see him sleeping so soundly that I dare not wake him. Sometimes I wonder if he's still dreaming. Maybe he is still experiencing nightmares. I don't know. But from what I can see, he hardly looks disturbed; by his fever or by his dreams or otherwise. And I don't want to bother him._

_I should wake him up though, to get his bandages off and to check his wounds. Every time I unroll his bandages, I can see streaks of pale, glowing red slashes. Thankfully, they're healing fine and they are no longer bleeding. Some of them are even scarring now. But what hurts the most is every time I brush his hair away, I see my name glaring at me back. It always looks red, as though nearly fresh, even though I know it's just scarring. And sometimes, I just lightly touch it a bit---I just brush my fingers over it---my heart aches at hearing him whimper and shudder beneath my touch. I think it hurts him the most, that wound. He hides it and never mentions it----it's always covered with his hair that I never gave a second thought. Now I look and I wonder----did I really hurt him when I did that? How much did it hurt? Does it still hurt?_

_It certainly hurt when I was going under that knife. But I numbed myself to it. After all, I was Malik's Darkness…I could numb myself to any pain…but Ryou? How much did it hurt for him that I ripped a burning knife into his own flesh and continually beat it? How can he still forgive me?_

_I gently brush my fingers along the wound. He whimpers a bit and I freeze momentarily, afraid that he will awaken. He mumbles something in a sad, miserable tone and returns to sleep. My heart weighs down considerably, and gently, I brush my knuckles against his wound. Will this…will this make him feel better? Is this…comforting him at all?_

_I've never done anything like this before…being so gentle----I've held him before on the blimp many times, held his hand, even sometimes stroked his hair---but I've never caressed any other body ligament. Does this sooth him? _

_I sweep his hair aside and gently place another cold cloth against the wound, covering it up. His breath hitches a bit but then it returns to a slow, even pace. I find another piece of cloth and dip it in water once more, before lightly dabbing his face all around. He whines softly, but otherwise says nothing. I lean down and am about to give him something of any encouragement…a whisper, a nuzzle…even a kiss…but I come too short and I back away. I don't deserve his touch---not after all I've done._

_I pull the covers over his shoulders and tuck him in. He's usually very hot so often I never tuck him in, but I think he should at least be comfortable tonight. It's so rare to see him so quiet---I don't dare disturb him, no matter what. _

_I look away. Some part of me has a twitching urge to stroke his hair, but I dare not. I limit myself to only a few touches per day, and only when he really needs it…or if I really need it. I'm worried that I delve too deeply into the temptation of touching him, and holding him, that the Shadows might return and take advantage of me and him once more. I don't want to hurt him anymore. He's done nothing to deserve anything I've bestowed upon him._

_I need to protect him. Some part of me tells me that it wasn't my fault that he's like this. That the Shadows were taking control of me. But I am the Shadow Master; I should've controlled them! And now…I need to protect him._

_The best way to protect him is to leave, but I know if I do that, he might die. I'm the only here who still feeds him, holds him, rebandages him and bathes him. I'm his only lifeline. I go…and he'll die._

_But while I'm here healing him, I still take the risk that I might not be able to control the Shadows. I still take the risk that I might need him so badly that I would ravage him too passionately and end up taking him against his will again. I'm afraid that all this will happen while I'm here, so I try to keep my distance. I try to forget about how much I need his touch; to feel as though we're still together._

_I crave his touch so badly in this case. I know we'll never be together again, but that doesn't stop me from hoping. I want to hold his hand, to bury my face in his hair, to hold and clutch him tight and beg him to hold on. But I can't. The words just can't come out of my mouth, no matter how badly I know he needs to hear them._

_He begged me so often to stay by his side, to forgive him. I always denied him---if I asked, how can he possibly forgive me? Words…they're not enough for me. I need to show him. I'll never feel right if he forgives me and I've done nothing to deserve it. _

_My conscience has grown since I returned. I am the only one here for him now; I can't betray his trust. He subconsciously trusts me…clings to me when he seems to recognize me. He mumbles my name often, as though praying that I'll return heroically and save him. He begs to some invisible phantom---or perhaps to me---to bring 'Marik' back. He keeps on chanting my name, pleadingly, as though begging Ra himself to bring me back to him. _

_I've returned…but I don't think he knows. I've considered taking him to another healing, but I don't want to betray his only trust in me now. After all I've done, he still relaxes when I pat his back, when I approach him. Granted, often he's also afraid; terrified and often even screaming in his sleep to make me stop hurting him. But when he is quiet like this, so content…I cherish it as if he was awake and live and well, trusting me._

_I picked him up once, to bring to be healed. He clung to me, as best as he could. He mumbled something, his voice lining with fear. He didn't want to go, and I knew he didn't. He kept on crying into my shoulder, and although he said nothing, I knew he had given up and was just begging in what he thought was futility._

'_Please…no…more…"_

_I couldn't bring him to be healed. I couldn't put him through that torment again._

'_P-please…don't…s-scared….s-cared…"_

_As I watch him sleep now, I can't help but feel myself being dragged into him again. My fingers just itch to delve into his hair. To hold him, to sooth my fingers over his soft skin._

_How I wish I could just hold him...just for a moment...without anything to be worried about._

* * *

_I saw Anas today. He dropped by to check up on Ryou. I was hesitant to allow him to see Ryou, but after so long and apparently very little progress (and since I couldn't bring Ryou back to Isis for another healing…), I allowed Anas to see Ryou._

_Ryou hadn't been talking much lately. It was worrying me._

_Anas even brought his little brother along. I watched in fascination as the little boy clutched to Anas's hand so tenderly. When they entered the room, Mad'hi hid behind Anas's back, almost afraid at the sight of Ryou._

_Ryou wasn't wearing much; a sleeveless shirt and a sarong. Ever since I have returned, I've always dressed him whenever he's awake. It's better than letting him wallow in nothing but his own sweat and his fever._

_He's curled up in the corner again. I have to hold him down while Anas removes his shirt. Ryou, of course, is terrified of this; he's never met Anas before._

_"Could you just pull the shirt over his head?" Anas asks me. _

_I give him a faintly quizzical look. "Wouldn't it be easier to just cut it away? I have many more clothes for him."_

_"In his mental condition, I don't want to use anything that can be seen as a weapon," Anas explains. He gently rests his hand against Ryou's temple and cheek, trying to calm him down as he begins to lightly stroke Ryou's hair. "Shhh…it's okay, little guy. It's okay."_

_I watch, amazed that Anas even has the courage to touch Ryou's pale skin, when no one else has. Inside, I curse myself slightly for having such an inconsiderate heart…of course we should handle Ryou delicately…he imagines things that aren't there, and he doesn't even recognize me. From Ryou's eyes, everything's confusing, frightening…he has no one to trust._

_However, lifting the shirt over Ryou's head proves to be slightly difficult, since Ryou won't stop shaking his head and mumbling something or another. My hands are gripping his shoulders down, but I can see that Ryou's fingers are trying to find something to grip onto, something like me…_

_"Do you know what causes his hallucinations?" Anas asks me. "To others, people hallucinate things that are ridiculous. To the actual patients themselves, the hallucinations tend to link to something traumatic or something very vivid that happened in their memory. If you know what's making him afraid, maybe we can avoid anything that can resemble his fear."_

_"Why isn't he talking though?" I demand. Anas sighs._

_"It's a bit part of the hallucination," Anas says. "The fever, when too high, tends to make people think things that aren't there, that reflect what happened in some time of their lives…pivotal moments, whether they be bad or good. Ryou's probably not talking because he's either too weak, or he's too afraid to. He's probably closed in on himself…too afraid to say something that might make things worse. But if you want him to talk, you should ease him out of that. I'm sure it will help his mental state too. Do you know what he's afraid of?"_

_I sigh and bite my lip. I'm well aware of what Ryou's afraid of. He doesn't like it when people touch his bare skin anymore. Before, at least, he didn't mind, letting Isis or anyone touch him briefly if it was only to check up on him. Now, I know…he's afraid that even the slightest touch against his bare skin might lead me to think he's initiating something much more. He won't let anyone touch him now…not even me._

_I don't want to tell Anas that Ryou's afraid of sexual contact…something inside me tells me that it's Ryou's own decision to tell someone. If he didn't want to tell me, I don't think he wants to tell anyone._

_"Maybe he's afraid of people touching him," Mad'hi speaks up, looking at Ryou in a slightly furrowed gaze. Mad'hi himself hasn't touched Ryou…something about Mad'hi has mellowed since I first saw him outside the dungeons._

_"That could be possible," Anas says grimly. He sighs and stands. "Marik, could you distract him? I'm going to cut away his shirt somewhere where he won't see."_

_I sigh and nod, before flexing my fingers to ready myself. I haven't touched Ryou much at all since I've returned…I'm worried that a simple touch might feed the Shadows again. Thankfully, I've managed to keep them under control…as long as I don't feel angry or sad or vengeance, they're going to continue to lose their lust._

_Not that keeping them under control is easy. When I look at Ryou, all I can feel is sadness, anger, and something akin to vengeance. Whenever this happens, I look at the dolls on the table. They help a bit._

_I take a small breath and slowly slide my face to Ryou's cheek. Gracefully, I turn his head towards me, away from Anas's towering shadow. Ryou winces and begins to mumble again, whimpering slightly and biting his lip. I hold my hand there for a moment, unsure as to how to distract him without getting myself too much involved. A tear trickles down his warm face and he whimpers a little again, shivering lightly._

_I shake my head and slowly stroke his hair with my other hand. I'm sitting on his bed, his head in my lap, turned facing towards the door with my left hand guiding his vision. My right hand slowly drifts over his forehead and strokes away the sweaty hair that dangles in front of his eyes. _

_You'll be okay, I keep saying in my head, because I don't dare to say it out loud. Hang in there and you'll be fine._

_To distract him from Anas pulling on his shirt and deftly slitting the side with his disinfected dagger, I pick up a wet towel from the water bowl on the table where my dolls stand. After squishing it lightly, I drape it on his forehead and begin to dab at his face. His breath quickens for a moment, before he begins to pant softly, slowly relaxing to the gentle bathing on his face._

_His shirt is gone now, but when Ryou realizes that his chest his bare, he begins to panic again. Anas and I quickly subdue Ryou the best we can; mostly it's just me holding onto his shoulders and Anas holding onto his legs. Mad'hi watches with a very grim air about his face._

_Anas sighs exasperatedly, since he doesn't want to do anything that may harm Ryou's mental state. If Ryou gets overly exerted because he thinks whatever he's seeing is real, it will harm his body and how it functions. _

_"Shh….it's okay," Anas calls softly to Ryou. "It's okay." He takes Ryou's hand. "My name is Anas, Ryou…I'm going to take care of you today, okay? We want you to get better, but you have to work with us, okay? Shhh…"_

_Ryou, previously paranoid, quivers unsurely as Anas holds his hand. A flicker of uncertainty crosses over Ryou's face: he doesn't recognize the hand holding his, and he's unsure of the man's intentions. He reluctantly squeezes it, before slipping his fingers away and clutching the sheets once more._

_Anas, with his hair tied back (although that one scraggly bang that's always in his face is bumping out of the tie and floating like an arch on his head) slowly lowers his head against Ryou's chest. He listens to Ryou's heartbeat intently. Ryou chokes and whines of the contact; he tries to squirm away but I won't let him._

_"He's trying to help you," I say, unintentionally harshly. I squeeze his shoulders roughly. "Just calm down."_

_Ryou chokes again and whimpers in defeat, crying silently as he tries to endure Anas's checkup. He tries to control his body, but one can see how he quakes that he's terrified._

_Anas sighs and stands up, scratching his head dangerously close to that strand of hair that threatens to break free. _

_"His heart rate is very fast," Anas explains, but that's all he says. He continues to check up on Ryou, pinching here, poking there, lightly pressing over there. Ryou doesn't like these touches; everytime Anas does, Ryou whines very loudly, trying to squirm away. I get annoyed, feeling very frustrated that Ryou won't cooperate with me when I'm trying to be decent, and smack him in the head._

_"Shut up," I hiss. "He's trying to help."_

_Anas hears the smack and looks at me sharply. Ryou whimpers again and shakes his head weakly, before succumbing onto my lap. Anas says nothing and returns to his work._

_He reaches Ryou's legs and sighs inwardly. I know what he's about to ask._

_"You can check," I say. Anas sighs again._

_"Will he let me though?"_

_He means Ryou, and I curse myself again for my inconsideration. But logically, what else can I do? I certainly can't check, I wouldn't know what to say about Ryou's passageway, whether it's getting better or getting torn or getting worse. Surely it's getting better…_

_Anas bends down and pats Ryou's head again._

_"Hey little guy," he says gently over Ryou's ear. "I know you'll think I'm forward, but could I check your butt? I'm a doctor, I promise I won't do anything bad."_

_Ryou whimpers and shakes his head, gripping the sheet tightly. He can understand?_

_Anas sighs. "Please, Ryou?" he asks. "We need to make sure you're ok. Marik says it's okay."_

_Ryou looks confused, and still shakes his head. Anas comfortingly rubs Ryou's shoulder._

_"Hey, little guy, please? Marik says it's okay…and I'll only check for one moment, okay? I just want to make sure you're fine."_

_Ryou mumbles something that sounds like "fine", but very distantly, as though he's merely repeating what Anas was saying. _

_Anas smiles sadly. "Yes, you are fine," he says. "But we have to make sure of that, okay? I promise I'll be quick."_

_I watch silently as he moves back to Ryou's legs. Draping a blanket over Ryou's legs and ducking his head quickly underneath the blanket, Anas hurries to do his stuff._

_While I…while I can only watch._

* * *

_No, no no no no…no one…no one …goes…butt…_

_Everything's so…muddled. Someone's here, holding my shoulders…someone else is there…he's touching me, poking me, get away from there!...and…._

_I can't help but cry. Who is it touching me? Who is it holding me?  
"I'm a doctor, I won't hurt you."_

_I sob again and shake my head. Soldiers were supposed to be helpers of peace and justice. And what did they do to me?_

_I get slapped and smacked so many times I don't know what's what anymore. Would Marik really hurt me? Would this stranger…who is this stranger? Is he really a doctor? _

_He's slipping a finger into me. Unable to help myself, I burst into tears. No…no…only for Marik to touch, only for Marik to touch…I'm Marik's, I'm Marik's…_

_…if Marik even wants me back anymore…_

_No one touches me there…no one! Please stop touching me there! I cry out and buck as he presses a swollen, healing cut in my muscles. The man gripping me holds me down even tighter._

_Marik! Marik! Please, I'm afraid! Marik, help me…_

_Another finger in. Flashes of the two shadows before taking me, holding me down. One holding me down, my arms wrenched behind my back…I'm on my knees, I'm crying, I'm begging for them to stop, stop taking me so harshly, stop taking me at all…_

_It wasn't like this…our time together wasn't like this. Could sex be used so cruelly against someone? But Marik…Marik never…_

_I cry out in pain and anguish as my head floods with more flashes. Marik holding me down and slamming into me, Marik tying me down and screaming at me to hold back my release, Marik telling me he doesn't love me, doesn't want me, as he slams into my body over and over and over until my legs can barely move…_

_I thought you loved me…_

_The memories abruptly snap away, and I collapse into the lap of some man holding me. I cry weakly, feeling so very defeated all of the sudden. _

_I can't do this anymore. I can't take the havoc that runs through my head. It's Marik, it's not, it's Marik, it's not, it's Marik but he hates me, it's Marik and maybe he loves me, it's not Marik at all, who's this other man? This other man, this one touching me? Not Marik? Is Marik? Marik mad? Marik…_

_I can't… I can't do this anymore. I can't…I can't…I can't…continue fighting, continue to beat whatever's muddling my head. I faintly realize I'm still ill. Maybe that's why._

_Marik wouldn't want me anyway…I can't fight anyone who would want to take me anyway. Marik…Marik doesn't trust me anymore…even if someone does take me, someone does touch me, he won't believe me if I tell him that I didn't want it. _

_My heart didn't want it. I've never wanted anyone else to take me. I've never even had crushes before. Amane had been my life before she was taken away…Amane, Mum and Dad…_

_I was a good brother…good brother…took care of her, loved her, made sure she was okay and never got lost…I didn't like it when strangers talked to her, but I was always too shy to do anything other than take her hand and lead her away…she was always more open than me…_

_…strangely…I turn my head weakly in thought…strangely…she was…a bit like Malik…_

_I made sure…Mum never worried…cleaned…dishes…brought Daddy paper…helped Mummy cook…Mummy…chocolate cakes…chocolate cupcakes and Amane squishing cream on them…one of them got on my nose and I couldn't lick it and Daddy wouldn't let me wipe it off before taking a picture…_

_I didn't want it Marik…I really didn't….they told me to show them that I wasn't yours…I had to act like …like…_

_I can't even say it. I'm too ashamed._

_But I really didn't want it, Marik…they said if I didn't show them I wasn't yours, they'd kill you too…I couldn't let them kill you…but I didn't want to tell you…I was happy…just happy being with you. We could've made cakes, and sprout cream when I was better…and maybe I'd get some on you and take a picture too…_

_I feel more tears trickle down my cheek. I'm so delirious. I'm getting my family and my lover mixed up. I feel terrible…_

_Marik…not my lover…wait…_

_My lover, yes….but I'm not…not his anymore…he probably has…someone else…by now…someone….who…he trusts….or…loves…or…_

_I sniffle and close my eyes. Or…who's…prettier than me…_

_"I only wanted your body."_

_My body…just my body…? _

_I shiver again…I can't do this anymore. He…he doesn't want me anymore…he hits me…he yells at me…I get so afraid when he's taking off my clothes…I…I love him but…but I…_

_I give up…_

* * *

_After the checkup, Anas wanted to speak with me. Mad'hi ended up holding Ryou's hand, and only after that did Ryou actually calm down. Anas handed me a bottle of potion and told me to give it to Ryou to help subdue him._

_"What the hell is it?" I asked._

_Anas bit his lip grimly. "It's a potion," he said simply, "filled with a type of drug that will help him calm his senses and let his heart rate down."_

_I nodded, and Anas packed his bags and told Mad'hi to come home. Mad'hi nodded and gently hugged Ryou, kissing Ryou's cheek goodbye, and passed by me._

_"You really shouldn't hit him so much," Mad'hi said to me. I roll my eyes. He and Anas seemed to have linked minds._

_"I can't help it." I said._

_"He didn't want those bad things to happen to him," Mad'hi insisted. "He missed you. You're Marik, right? He kept on calling your name. He didn't want them to hurt him. You shouldn't hit him for something that isn't his fault."_

_I felt slightly irritated and ashamed that a child had to chastise me of my treatment of Ryou. I sighed and finally obliged._

_"I know."_

_"You won't do it again, right?" Mad'hi asked me, his eyes glaring at me sharply. I narrowed my eyes at him. _

_"Try me."_

_"I will," Mad'hi said. He frowned at me. "Goodbye."_

_I waved him goodbye and disgruntedly thanked Anas for his help. Anas arranged an appointment with Ryou again briefly, before he left. _

_"You're a good guy," he said, punching me lightly. The scraggly strand had finally escaped from his hairtie and was dangling in front of his eyes once more. "Ryou's pretty lucky to have a guy like you."_

_"Oh shut up." I scowled and bid him goodbye._

_Throughout all this time, Ryou remained silent. I couldn't help but worry a bit when I did not hear him even cry. When I returned to his bedside, I found the broken brown eyes closed and silently shedding tears. I was immediately concerned._

_But… I can't take seeing the sight of him like this. Surely there must be…some way I can help…_

_I gently stroke his face, unaccustomed to being so kind and gentle. However, the image of his tear-streaked face and his broken eyes can't seem to fade away from my head… despite myself, I am worried._

_He's never acted this way before, so giving up and hopeless. At least before, he'd at least try to get away from me, but now, he's just lying there, crying silently and he won't even stop me._

_His eyes seem to plead, "I can't do it anymore…I can't fight…just please…please have mercy…don't let them take me again…"_

_I can't help but be very worried. He's never acted this way._

_I gently tuck a hair behind his ear, and brush my thumb against his eyes, brushing away the tears. "Hey…" I whisper. "You okay?"_

_Ryou doesn't reply, continuing to stare at me blankly, hopelessly, sadly. He blinks slowly, more tears trickling down his face. I can't help but feel very sad. Ryou…did I do something wrong?_

_I lean closer, and presses my forehead against his. "Shh…" I whisper. "It's okay now…it's okay. Anas is gone…no one will touch you there again, okay?" For the first time, I find myself wishing Ryou could smile. Just once. Just once so that I know at least he's a little okay. "Hey…come on. It'll be okay. Here…" I grab the bowl of soup the servants left, and wafts the smell towards Ryou's nose. "Hey…look. You hungry? We'll eat, okay? Get your energy back up." I pat him on the head. "Okay?"_

_Ryou's eyes flicker briefly at the smell of the soup. I felt my heart twitch slightly in hope that Ryou will return to his normal self soon. Ryou's always loved food…_

_I remember how he craved that fish when he first came. I sigh and look away. Maybe when he's better, I should get him that dish…_

_I slowly ease myself onto the bed, and pushes him up against me in a slightly sitting position. He whimpers again, very weakly. I brush his hair and whispers into his ear._

_"It's okay. It's just me. We'll get you food."_

_I wrap my left arm around him, gently resting my arm on his flat stomach. His head resting on the crook of my shoulder and neck, I transfer the bowl to my left hand, resting the warm bowl into his lap. My right hand picks up the spoon, filled with nutrients and a delicious, lightly spiced flavor to his lips._

_He drinks weakly, his chest beginning to pant lightly from the exertion of it all. I can't help but feel worried once more. He's so weak now…he can't even feed himself, or even drink at a proper speed…_

_He blinks softly, very confused. I feel a bit more reassured and press another spoonful into his mouth. He sips it uncertainly, coughing quietly when he swallows it too fast. Soup and a fleck of blood dribbles from his lips and I quickly wipe his lips._

_"Whoa…take it easy," I say. My heart resumes worrying about the blood that stains the cloth I used to wipe his lips. "Shh…drink it slowly. No rush, no rush." _

_He coughs weakly and collapses in my arms. I want to rub him comfortingly somewhere, but my hands are full of soup and spoon. _

_Ra…Ra…can I kiss him?_

_I know I don't deserve it. Technically, I shouldn't be the one taking care of him. I don't deserve his presence after all I've done. But… I want to make it up…I want to erase my mistake. I made him this way….I want to fix it._

_But I shouldn't kiss him, that I shouldn't. I haven't deserved the chance to ask him for his forgiveness yet, so I shouldn't._

_His eyes flicker briefly at me. But after that one moment, they close, and now, all he can concentrate on is his soup._

_He's finished now. The whole bowl is empty. I try to feed him a little cracker to satisfy his need to chew. He nibbles on it feebly, shivering against me again. When he's finished, I give him one last gulp of soup and water, and feed him his pills. _

_I poke them through his mouth, and he blinks weakly at me. I sigh and poke more into his mouth, and finally, give him a glass of water to drink._

_He swallows it, and after I place the glass back, I slowly ease him back into bed. The potion is working very well. He's already feeling drowsy and his heart rate his slowing down from it's disturbingly fast pace. I can't help but faintly smile as he closes his eyes, his tears finally dry, and his breath finally evening out. I take out the small doll he had offered to me, the little plushie I asked him to create, and gently place it on the pillow next to his face._

_He weakly opens his eyes and stares at the doll with a strange confusion in his eyes. What is this? …Wait… is that?_

_I slide my hand underneath the sheets and grip his hand. _

_"It's a really nice doll," I admit, my voice low and mumbling. "I…I really like it. And I…"_

_I slowly look back at the dolls up on the table, reminding myself not to be sad. Trying to think of the positive things will help keep the Shadows away…keep them away from Ryou again._

_I gently look down at Ryou again, and stroke his hair. "I…really like it. Really. And I would love it even more…if you got better, and maybe…maybe one day…" I retrieve the doll from the pillow and put it in Ryou' s hand in mine, before closing his fingers over it. "…Maybe one day, when you're better, I'd like it if….if you could offer it to me…again."_

_Ryou looks at his hand blearily, looking so confused and tired. I try my best to smile, but it only comes out as a very sad, strained smirk, and I hold him close to me._

_"I really like it," I whisper in his ear. "…one day…when you're better, you can give it to me again…and I'll be happy. You want to make me happy, don't you? Right?"_

_Ryou nods very weakly. Maybe he can hear me a bit._

_"Happy…" Ryou repeats distantly. A small tear trickles down his face, and he closes his eyes, resting against my lap. "…happy…"_

_I smile sadly and rock him to sleep. It feels good to finally be human again._

_And maybe…maybe even a little happy._


	30. Sorry for Love

Chapter Thirty: Sorry for Love

_He's not getting any better, at least, not that I can tell, at least. He's sleeping most of the time, mostly because he's too exhausted to do anything else. It's a pain and a hassle to wake him to feed him…but any frustration I feel always disappears when he finally opens his eyes. I can no longer defend myself and hate Ryou for something he never did._

_Why did I hate him again? I can't even remember._

…_Oh right…_

_I don't think I was ever angry at him…for…going to Bakura. I was jealous, and I just…got very angry at him for doing something to make me look so…foolish. That's why. But then I realized I still cared for him; so I brought him back. I was still upset for him making me look so weak, so depending…but …_

_The anger is gone now. All I feel is sadness, and regret. And the thing I regret the most is that I had left Ryou when he needed me the most. All because I was confused…I thought he was trusted me, cared for me, maybe even loved me…and then…he admits to me something he's kept hidden all this time…something he didn't trust me enough to tell me._

_And I think that one hurt the most. Probably more than I care to admit…or even to acknowledge._

_My anger is gone now. Maybe my anger was just wrong and out of place. Ryou may not have trusted me, but he deserves that mistrust. I had done nothing to earn his trust. Who was I to overreact?_

_I'm trying to re-find myself. Rethink things over. The Shadows are still there, but I keep a permanent lid on them. I try not to get angry, as being angry always lights their fume, so instead, I force myself to think of other things._

_I found that old doll Ryou was once trying to make me. It was the one based on me. One could definitely see the resemblance. The spiked up hair, the light caramel color of the fabric, and the purple cloak and the angled-cut button eyes to make me look menacing. …Ha, menacing. This thing is far too adorable to look menacing._

_But, it's unfinished._

_The stuffing is limp and the thread is frayed. The black shirt is flapping, and the fluffed legs are still not sewn together. I pick up the needle and look at it distantly. I frown a bit. _

_Hold it like this…and stick it in…_

_Stuff it first…_

_Fold it inside out…_

_Make a circle, and make the needle go through the loop…_

* * *

_The world is …so black. My vision swims in and out. I can't tell the difference between light and dark, or white and black, the carousel of blurring colors churns my stomach and throws my soul about. My head is pounding and I feel so hot all over. My chest is tight…my lungs feel weak…it's exhausting for me to breathe, like someone has placed a heavy weight on my chest and it's flattening me to death slowly…_

_Someone's…nudging me. I gasp but my breath is cut short…a hand finds mine and grips it lightly._

_I feel…so faint, like part of me has faded from reality. I can't even feel the hand very well around my own…my fingers feel so puffy and numb…my legs feel like their leaden stone…numb, heavy, sinking…and my chest feels like a dead weight… It's so hard to breath. _

_I'm so dizzy…but I'm good…I'm a good brother…good brother…Amane…where's Amane? Is she okay…? Please say she's okay…_

_Where's my mother? Can I see her? Why won't anyone let me see her?_

_Daddy? Where's daddy? Mum…Mummy's hurt and no one will talk to me…_

_They won't let me in. They won't let me see them. But I want to…I want to see Amane! I was a good brother! I am a good brother! She's my sister, I have to take care of her… It's what Mum said._

_I can't help but cry. Why …why is Amane all bundled up like that? Why…why is all her hair gone…why is her head bandaged like that? Why are all those tubes sticking into her? Why is there a mask on her nose? Why are there scary machines that are taking care of her? Why can't I go in?! _

_Where are her clothes? Why are they so red? Why is her skin so yellow? _

_I made her a hair clip! The teacher said it was very pretty. It's a butterfly, a pretty purple butterfly, 'cause purple and blues are her favorite colors…_

_"Why don't you give it to her, Ryou?" _

_Can I? Can I give it to Amane? Please?_

_"Here." Someone hands me a teddy bear. It has a heart on it hanging from his neck. It's a big pink heart. It says LUV U._

_Mummy made it…Mummy made it for me and Amane…I want it so badly. I want to give it to Amane so she won't hurt anymore. _

_I want to cry. I'm so confused. Where am I? Why is the world so dizzy?_

_The nurse won't let me in. I want to give it to Amane! I want my Mom! I want my Mom! I want my Mummy…_

_Someone's talking to me…their voice…it's so different from everyone else's. The bear is gone now…the bear and the hair clip…and suddenly I see yellow, a lot of yellow, and I'm not a child anymore. I'm not seven. It happened ten years ago…_

_Why didn't I die then too?_

_Hospital…the hospital forced me alive…they forced me to live through it. But now I don't have the hospital. I don't have tubes, I don't have scary machines, and I don't have Amane or Mum or their coffins or their voices to haunt me…to sing to me…_

_My time has finally come, hasn't it? _

_Why was I postponed? Why couldn't I die with them? _

_Wait…why…why is…my vision…coming…back?_

_"Ryou!" the voice calls very distantly. "Ryou! Wake up." The voice mutters softly. "I know you don't want to wake up, but you have to eat…"_

_I shiver. Eat…? But I'm too tired…My throat's so dry…_

_Do I… have to open my eyes? …Can I…can't I just…sleep? _

_"Ryou…" The voice is sighing now. "Damn it, Ryou, wake up…"_

_Do I…have to…?_

_Suddenly, I'm picked up. I'm shoved against someone's chest. My heart races. I panic. I can't help but panic. But then…those arms wrap around me. I can hear someone's heartbeat in my ear. Hot liquid spills against my lips. My stomach growls._

_"See?" the voice smirks. "I knew you were hungry."_

_I weakly open my eyes. Hungry…yes, very much …so…I swallow. Fresh stew…vegetables…milk…cheese…cheese! Melted…melted cheese…yum…_

_…onions…onions and leeks and cheese…yum…_

_The person holds me closer. I shake my head to reorganize myself, and my nose just brushes against his chest. I pause. _

_He…he smells like Marik… _

_He gently presses something soggy and warm against my lips. I nibble on it weakly, so ravishingly hungry but too weak to eat at my hungry speed. An instant taste of soft bread and melted cheese and stew fills my mouth. I lick my lips and pant in exhaustion as I try my best to bite a larger mouthful, which was gladly offered to me._

_"Don't chew so quickly," Marik tells me, his voice far away. "You might bite your tongue if you do that. Or choke."_

_I nod dizzily, my head thick and muddled. I swallow slowly and take a few deep breaths, before I feel Marik rubbing my shoulder comfortingly. _

_"Take it easy," he tells me. It is hard to sense the emotion in his voice. "The food's not going to go away."_

_I take a few more breaths, my shoulders heaving slightly from my exertion. Marik places my head back onto his shoulder and directs my face up at him; I blink. I can see…purple eyes…pretty purple eyes. They…they're not like the ones in my nightmare…not cold and hard and white as stone…but they're…_

_He wipes my lips with a piece of cloth, and I cough a bit, the heat of the stew finally reaching my senses. My throat feels slightly scorched from downing it too fast, and the metallic taste of blood flecks my lips._

_Marik's eyes are clouding funny. He wipes the blood away too, and finally puts the rag away. I mumble incoherently. Marik…Mariku…? You really…really returned?_

_Marik looks at me strangely. I can only see his eyes. I can't see his face, or his hair…their just …yellow and brown blobs to me. But his eyes, that I can see…very clearly…but that's all…that's all. _

_He touches his hand to my forehead. My back is sore and stiff from him holding me up so awkwardly. The wounds have now been healed and are scarring, but with scarring comes along with bruises…I wince as I try to adjust myself, my body reacting violently to the idea of moving my healing muscles and bruises. I start to inhale and exhale harshly, the stuffiness affecting my head and the pain clouding my mind._

_He quickly withdraws his hand and brushes my bangs away. He readjusts his position so that I am leaning towards him, rather than against his arms. I sigh in relief. The pain in my back subsides slightly._

_"Are you okay?"_

_His voice is so far away, so distant. I can barely hear it in its entirety; to me, I can't even differentiate between his words. It makes no difference to me if he is speaking, or if he's singing, or if he's chanting or anything. All I know is that the sound of his deep, tenor voice soothes me deep inside, no matter what it is he's saying… _

_I look up blearily, but I can't see much except for his eyes. My mouth is dry regardless of the recently acquired stew. I blink a few times, very weakly, hoping that I can see him more clearly._

_I can't, but that's okay…I think I'm getting used to being this delusional._

_I force my mouth to work, but it takes great effort and I slump against his chest. _

_"…O…kay," I manage out, hating how my voice is so hoarse and weak. Marik holds me close, and pauses for a moment. He then directs my face up at him again. My head is limp in his hand; he can turn my head any direction he wants and I'd have no power to stop him._

_"If you're feeling better," his voice calls, "we can talk…"_

_Talk? …I can barely speak, much less converse…I groan, clutching his arm weakly and biting my lip. He holds me and he feels my head again._

_"We don't have to," he says softly. "But if you go to sleep now, you'll have to make up our Talking Time sometime…"_

_Talking Time….? He…he still wants to talk with me…?_

_My head hurts so much. I can't think straight anymore. I don't want to do anything else but sleep. _

_I feel the sheets sliding off of me. I bite my lip and shiver, my skin prickling. Cold…s-so cold…Why, why must he take away the sheets? The only thing…the only thing that protects my body…  
"I know you're cold," I hear him say softly. "But it's not a good idea to bundle you up like this. Your fever could get higher."_

_Can my fever be any higher? _

_I feel a finger press onto my nose. "You can say anything you want," he whispers. "Anything. Anything at all."_

_I feel him place me back into bed. Shivering, I curl up into a ball from my lack of sheets; I feel him place one, very thin, over my body, and I clutch it to me, covering my body as much as I can. I'm not sure of the rationale behind it…other than that I know I'm so very cold…and I wouldn't…want Marik…if it was Marik…to see me…like…that._

_"T-talk…" I repeat feebly. _

_"Yeah," Marik's voice floats in distantly. His hands find mine, and they rub my knuckles gently. "Just talk…about anything. Anything you want."_

_I shiver again and grip his hands. Is it…is it really him? He never sounded the way he does now. Am I just dreaming? I…_

_…ow, my poor head…_

_"…" I bite my lip, breathing harshly and shivering. "…hurts…" I finally whisper, my harsh voice rubbing against my raw, bleeding throat. _

_"Hurts?" Marik's voice is so soft. "…Where?"_

_I close my eyes, and weakly squeeze his hand. Regardless of my slow reactions and muddled mind, I am thankful that he's here. At least, someone who resembles him…maybe…maybe this isn't a dream._

_"…every…" I have to take another breath. "…where…"_

_I feel him squeeze my hand. I take another breath, my chest constricting painfully._

_"…I…" I cough a bit. "…good…brother…"_

_I must be delusional. I have to be. But I'm so tired…so tired…so confused. Hospital…Marik…Egypt…I'm so confused. The world lurches again. _

_"…Where's…Amane…?"_

_Amane…where was she? The rooms…the scary rooms with the horrible, scary machines…big, gray…beeping…they make scary sounds. The bags… and the room…cold, empty…lonely._

_I grip the hand tightly. The purple eyes swim away from view._

_"W-where's…Amane?" I croak out. "Amane…m-my….s-s-sister…" _

_The hand tightens on mine, and another briefly touches my hair. I clench my eyes shut and bite my lip…where is she? Where's Amane? _

_Everything's swimming again. I cry out in fear and confusion as everything grows dizzy and black. I cling onto that hand…it feels strange, unfamiliar, but strangely comforting. _

_As I begin to black out, I faintly realize that I've forgotten the person who's holding me so tenderly._

* * *

_He recognized me for some time. At least that was some progress. Maybe he feels more comfortable now…maybe he's finally opening up. _

_Anas had suggested I do everything and anything to make Ryou as comfortable as possible. For days I pondered what to do, as he was still quiet and broken and silent. I allowed him to sleep for a few days, knowing that he needs it. But the loneliness is unbearable._

_The doll is almost done now. I've been working on it for a few days while he's sleeping. It passes the time away._

_When he finally seemed to recognize me today, I took Anas's advice and tried to encourage him to talk._

_Yet, I am now very surprised when he mentions his sister's name. I guess the natural thing to do is to turn to the next source of comfort, as I'm not much of a help. There's nothing else I can say but that she's alright, but by then, Ryou's drifted off into another faint._

_I suppose it's too much to ask of him to speak when he's so weak. Those few words were a formidable task, I know, yet I am so relieved to hear those words, as cracked and soft as they are; I am so glad to hear them. It helps me convince myself that Ryou will get better, even though I know his body is growing weaker and weaker by the day._

_As the days progress, Ryou is getting worse. I am no fool. I know he is. His body is starting to give up the battle, the infection overcoming his whole being. His fever has been too high too long, and there is little chance that it will decide to break any time soon. Yet, I find myself holding onto that slim hope that Ryou will come through it. Maybe if he recognizes me, knows that I am here for him and I'm not here to hurt him, maybe he will learn to trust me and fight through it. _

_It's selfish of me to ask him to do so much…talking to me, waking up, conversing with me when he obviously doesn't have the strength…it's so greedy for me to force him into doing everyday things, just so I can convince myself he's okay. He's weak enough as it is…he doesn't need me to push him so much._

_But whenever he is awake, or afraid, or cold, I encourage him to talk just a bit. Just a few words…just a few things that are important to him that day. Sometimes it's absolute gibberish to my ears, especially when he's just been dreaming, but often times, I can piece together what he's trying to tell me._

_When he's sleeping, though…I find myself talking to him. Soft things, little things, idle things that just slip off my tongue and through my lips. I never say anything much to encourage him getting better…I still haven't found myself worthy to do that._

_But I tell him things…like how Bakura and Malik came to visit him, the toys and the gifts they brought, Bakura's stupid jokes and Malik's words of encouragement. Through my need to talk to him, I relay as messenger. That way, I can talk to him without feeling guilty that I don't have the right to tell him to hold on for me._

_But with every day…I find myself worrying ever more because he's not getting any better. He's usually asleep or very tired when Malik and Bakura visit him. For Bakura, he's used to Ryou being this sick, and he tries to act like it's nothing, even though I can see he knows Ryou's condition is getting worse. Malik, oblivious and naïve, still thinks that Ryou will pull through, and talks to him every day. _

_If only I had that freedom and that innocence to talk to Ryou, so carefree, as Malik._

* * *

_There were nights when Ryou stopped breathing. Each time I panicked, and each time, with a gust of relief, I somehow managed to bring him back to the living. During these times, he can barely recognize me. I always watch him carefully. _

_He's having trouble breathing again. So slowly, so tiredly. I rub his back as much as I can, forcing the blood to continue circulating. Breathe, Ryou, breathe…_

_…Even though he can't talk, I wish that he could smile. Just one…just to tell me that he'll be alright, that he'll pull through…that we'll pull through. That we'll be alright._

_That nothing I've done is wrong, and that he forgives me…even though I don't deserve it. That at least, he will allow me to try to make it up to him….that at least, he'll give me that chance._

_But there are no smiles. Not even a faint, weak twitch of his lips. _

_Regardless, I still hope. I know it's selfish of me, but I still hope._

_It's been three more days now. Ryou's 'Talking Time" with me has been reduced to barely one word a day, or two, if he's feeling less delusional than usual. Tonight, I can't help but feel my worry increase to the point when I'm a bit irrational…Ryou has momentarily stopped breathing twice, each time because his lungs are so weak. Thankfully, each time was followed with, after a second's hesitance, his lungs return to working order._

_Yet there is no denying that he is about to die…_

_Grief surges my chest when I think of this. No…after all I have done, I cannot believe that Ryou will just be taken away like this .He hasn't kept any promises he has with me…he hasn't gotten better, like he said; he hasn't been alright, like he said. Even though I've been here, day and night, watching over him and taking care of him._

_I quickly sit down next to him again, brushing his hair away to keep my senses. Surely there must be a way to reverse this! _

_He whimpers softly, and weakly, cracks open his eyes. I force my voice to be void of any worry…only mild concern. I don't want him panicking about death himself when it's so near._

_Please, Ryou…please smile. Smile once to tell me that I'm doing something right. _

* * *

_Anas dropped by again today, purely to see how Ryou was doing. We had not set up any appointment whatsoever, so it must've been out of his own curiosity or care or sympathy to come by._

_He was wearing bags full of medicine; apparently his own personal store stacked about his body. He smiles at me apologetically as he puts his bags onto the edge of Ryou's bed. I stood by, my arms crossed and face blank. _

_"Just some delivery service," he says, wiping his brow. His hair is scraggly and messy, the ponytail not doing much other than to keep his hair from his face. Obviously, riding about Egypt delivering medicines is hard work. "My brother asked for some potions that would increase one's Ba in battle. I had to literally bring my whole stock…business on the street isn't that bad."_

_He looks over at Ryou, and his face softens. "…How is he?"_

_I lower my head and say nothing. The smile-less face of Anas is enough to tell me that he doesn't expect Ryou to live much longer_

_"You did everything you could," Anas offers quietly. "Who knows? Maybe he will pull through eventually…"_

_I can tell by his tone that he's lying. Ryou's not going to pull through, no matter how much I pray he will._

_I raise my head, and my eye catches a little black bottle in Anas's breast pocket. Anas, being that careful observer he always is, instantly notices my attention and quickly hides the bottle out of view._

_"It's not for sale," he coughs, looking at me sternly. I raise an eyebrow._

_"You mean for assassins who would use it to kill swiftly and stealthily?"_

_"For sick people who'd rather take the easy way out and be damned for eternity," Anas shoots back at me. He holds his pocket firmly and looks at me sternly. "I'm not going to sell it to you."_

_"It's not for him," I say, gesturing to Ryou. _

_Anas's eyes narrow. "That's not what I'm afraid of." _

* * *

_I bought the little black bottle anyway. I hide it in my pocket, so that no one will see, least of all Ryou. He doesn't need to see it._

_Tonight, he can barely breathe, much less speak. His chest makes its futile attempt to rise up and down, shivering breaths wisping their way though his lips. He breathes like how a dying fire treats its shriveling embers…pulsing with futile glow, the ashes and smoke disappearing into nothingness… _

_I stand next to his bed and glance down at him. With weight in my chest akin to defeat, I touch his hand._

_"…I can give you anything you want," I whisper to him. Ryou, however, does not reply. "…Anything you can ever ask for…ever hope for…I can give you anything and everything…as long as you tell me…"_

_My fingers trail from his hand to his face. In one numb stroke, I caress his cheek. His breath hitches slightly, but remains labored and weak._

_I can bring you to the festival, Ryou. Like you wanted us to._

_I can bring you to the Nile, and let you see the wonders of Egypt._

_I can give you all the silk, wood, and materials you'll ever need to make an army of idols, statues and dolls._

_I can give you everything and anything…as long as you ask…as long as you stay…so I can give them to you. So I can offer them to you and hopefully, because I am so selfish, might get something in return._

_I will never ask you directly for what I want; not until I am certain that you have accepted my gifts and realize how much significance they mean. Not until I have given you enough to ease and redeem for what I have taken away._

_Tell me Ryou…tell me what you want most…_

_We can dance together like we did on the blimp so long ago. We can. _

_And we can do so much more…if you will let me._

_I sigh and let my head fall. His hand is weak in my grasp. _

_"…ny…thing…"_

_I perk my head up. Instantly, my eyes fall onto his; his chest is still fighting its gallant battle, but instead of empty breaths, his voice manages to break through…so weakly, so tiredly._

_He repeats what I say, as though he is hearing this from afar._

_"…Any…thing…"_

_It's barely audible, but I grasp onto this hope. I clutch his hand and sit closer to him. A hand of mine slowly brushes back his bangs from his forehead; he twitches very faintly in my direction, and I slowly turn his head so that he faces me._

_A faint grimace crinkles over his face. I release his hand and cup his cheek instead, gently fondling it to sooth over his pain._

_"…Yes," I finally whisper. "Yes. Anything. Anything you wish for, as long as you keep your promises…your promises to me."_

_His closed eyelids flutter in a dazed blink. _

_"…P-pro…mis…ses…" he whispers feebly._

_I nod my head and stroke his hair. "…Yes. Promises. Do you remember? Like…" I bend down lower, so my face is barely a few inches away from him. "…Like how…you said you'd make this through, right? …If you make this through…then I'll do anything you want to do…" I pause and begin to stroke his hair, very gently. "…What do you…" My voice drops to a much more somber tone. "…What…do you want to do…?"_

_His eyelids flutter again, and his chest deflates. I bring him closer to me when he falls silent._

_"…Like…" I try my best to force my voice into neutrality. There's no point in worrying him…or gushing over him… "…Sunsets." The first thing that comes to my mind. _

_His eyes flutter, but they do not open. He gives a sharp, rasping breath, and relaxes against his pillow._

_"S..un…." he takes a deep breath, but it's shaky and choppy. "….sets…" He relaxes again, slumped against his pillow, his chest rising up and down in a weakly pattern. _

_That warmth I once knew so long ago seems to now make its presence known in my chest as I watch him struggle with every breath. There's a conflict that I can't describe…it is so much different from what I've been living my whole life, what I've been exposed to for so long, waiting in the Shadows and numbing myself to every form of emotional torture for so long. There is a clash…a battle between sadness and happiness, regret and defeat. The battle within seems to shatter in a series of shards that embed themselves deeper in my lungs, my chest, and even my throat._

_I realize now that I am actually mourning for him, realizing now that his death…no matter how I wish otherwise, is imminent. But it only destroys my heart more to realize that I have not made up for anything that I've done to him. This feeling of failure…of deep regret and resent against his kindness towards me all this time…it explodes the shards that are embedded in my chest and rips my whole world apart. _

_There is no way that he can end like this. Not him. Not anyone like him. As much as I have learned and realize that justice is never served in this world, half of me bitterly scorns it and the other almost…begs for it to arrive. He's not supposed to die like this. Not like this. He's supposed to get better, keep his promises…allow _me_ to keep my promises._

_If I can, I don' t want to make this his last, final request…_

_After a long, thoughtful silence, I sigh and raise my head. As quietly as I can, I ease my arms under his shoulders and the crooks of his knees, and slide him into my arms. He is considerably much lighter than he ever has been; his body sinks weakly into mind to form against me. His skin is such a pale color; lighter than porcelain but equally as weak. As I hold him close to me, I find myself almost fearing that I may break him even by holding him._

_His eyelashes flicker briefly, as though he as just realized that he's now in the arms of a stranger carrying him. He gives the smallest 'unh' I've heard, drawing a short breath as he stiffens in the arms of this unfamiliar person._

_I hold him close, I rest my head against his forehead. His breath hitches, as it always does when he is afraid._

_"Come with me."_

_I speak the words so softly, reminding myself of the times I had spoken the same words to him on the blimp. "Trust me." "Come with me." "Don't you trust me?" _

_"Don't take that blindfold off. Don't you trust me?"_

_Trust me this time, Ryou. One last time._

* * *

They made their way through the winding corridors, twisting and sharply changing direction every which way. The hallways were dark and nearly black; not even the oil lamps and candles did much to bright light to the labyrinth of darkness.

After a series of quick twists and turns, they reached the circular courtyard under the well; the main entrance they had entered when they had opened the wooden doors and descended down the stairs upon their first arrival. Marik stopped to take a moment underneath the soft light shimmering through the well and into the dark pit that was the courtyard; the lights fell upon him, in their golden orange hues, and upon the one in his arms.

There was still light out.

As quickly as he could, Marik darted from under the well towards the winding but rigid staircase leading to the wooden doors. He remembered how he had made the same tedious journey so many days ago, with Ryou in his chair and his attempt up the stairs to see the festival. Marik halted a moment to regain himself, before shaking those memories away.

In his arms, Ryou groaned very quietly into his chest. The boy no longer even had the strength to twitch in discomfort in Marik's arms. When Marik finally made it to the top of the stairs and thrust his shoulders against the slanted, wooden doors to open, Ryou made no sound, swaying limply in Marik's grasp.

When the doors were thrown open, Marik had to squint and back down a bit. Although the sun was not bright, it had been a while since he had seen the light of day. As the sun's golden – orange rays flittered onto Ryou's face, the white-haired boy's eyes twitched in response; a small fraction of a turn of his head indicated how unused he was to the sun as well.

Regaining himself, Marik sincerely hoped that Ryou, afraid as he was of everything, would not be afraid of the welcoming light. Securing the sick boy in his grip, Marik emerged from the labyrinth and stepped onto the sands, finally raising his head to notice that the sun was beginning to descend.

He nearly cursed to himself. No…this meant he had only about eight minutes to let Ryou see something he had always longed to see every day and every morning. With a bit of a unnecessary force in his paces, Marik immediately strided to the well. With a sense of utmost gentleness that he never knew he possessed, he gently laid Ryou down against the well, sitting the boy slightly up in the direction of the dying sun.

On second thoughts, Marik also slowly unwrapped his cloak from his shoulders, and slowly placed it around Ryou's weakly form. In the sunlight, Marik could now see just how wasted away Ryou was now; so sickly thin that one could count the ribs faintly, so tired that his skin was devoid of the normal luster of blood, so weak that only a twitch of his eyes or face could show how discomforted he was.

Sighing, Marik slowly sat himself down next to Ryou. Absent-mindedly, he tugged the cloak around Ryou's shoulders, and tucked him in. As a precaution, Marik also took off his linen shirt (he was wearing a sleeveless black one underneath) and made Ryou a pillow.

As his fingers left Ryou's hair, they paused a centimeter away from Ryou's cheek. Giving in, Marik's fingers fell slowly against the softness of Ryou's cheek, stroking and caressing it like a newborn child. The strain in Ryou's closed eyes relaxed, and the boy actually managed to lean into Marik's touch. A faint smiled flickered briefly on Marik's stony expression, and he opened his hand up entirely, so Ryou's cheek could rest in his palm as he continued to stroke Ryou's face.

"You wanted to watch the sunset…didn't you?" Marik said softly, almost to no one in particular. Ryou did not respond. Marik slid closer. "…I promised we would…"

Again, Ryou did not respond. His eyes were relaxed and content, his cheek was resting in the cup of Marik's palm. Shifting closer, Marik carefully wrapped his other arm around Ryou's waist, and drew him closer.

"Open your eyes, Ryou…" he whispered. "Wake up, my little thief…"

The eyelashes flickered again, but they did not open immediately. In response, the pale, chapped lips fell open a crack. The words that whispered out were hardly audible, but Marik could hear them clearly:

"….Marik..ku."

A sense of loss and regret and resentment filled Marik's chest at the mention of his name. He wanted so badly to get mad at someone…anyone…to prevent Ryou from leaving him. But he couldn't…it'd be stupid of him to. With so many things on the line.

Marik lifted his hand, and slowly brushed back Ryou's bangs. "Yes," he whispered briefly. "…It's me, it's Marik. Do you know where we are …Ryou? My little thief? …Do you know where we are?"

The eyelashes twitched again, but Ryou didn't reply. Marik continued in assumption that Ryou truly didn't know where they were.

"…We're on the blimp," Marik whispered into Ryou's ear. "…We're on the blimp…and you just got better…from being sick for three days…remember? We were dancing…and you said you wanted to see the sunsets and sunrises…"

Gently, Marik cupped Ryou's cheek and brought the boy's lips closer to his. The lips, already apart, looked so supple despite their chapped and dehydrated appearance. Almost sadly, Marik brushed his thumb against those lips; how hard and rough and brittle were they against his skin.

"…If you open your eyes," Marik whispered, "…Mariku brought you your sunset."

In the next few moments, Ryou did not reply, but Marik took his time, watching the boy's chest rise slowly up and down. He allowed Ryou a few minutes to process this, and in those moments, Marik actually raised his head, and took a good long look at the sun.

The great ball of fire was now descending into the golden horizons, becoming a heaven-sent arc from one side of the sands to the other. Behind the clouds, reds and golds and magentas blotted the sky in their autumn shades; in the distance, the pyramids glowed and shined, like newly polished gold, and among the mounds of sands, each individual speck twinkled like its own jewel. Since the land of Egypt was primarily made up of yellows and ochre, in the dying sun, the horizon, sky and land had all merged into one beautiful glow of auburn, reds, yellows and gold.

It took Marik a minute to actually realize the daily phenomenon that was going on at this point of time. In the distance, he recalled fragments of something similar to this not too long ago…maybe five, six months ago, on a blimp, holding onto the metallic railing, one arm around the boy he was sure he loved…

His memories felt distorted. There was something so familiar about this sunset, yet so different. Caught up with his distorted memories, Marik sat against the well, his hand dropping slowly from Ryou's cheek, and almost subconsciously, around Ryou's hand.

His eyes and soul felt drawn to such enchantment, such a deep, personal journey of his own doing. In those minutes, Marik actually cherished this one sunset well…by the touch of those soft, glowing rays, in those minutes, the pain, regret, sorrow and anger spread their dark wings and left, taking any remnants of the shadows with them. Marik felt his soul being cleaned by sun's presence… the dying sun's presence.

In the distant, he felt something tightening on his hand too, and lowered his head.

* * *

Slowly, Ryou opened his eyes. The setting sun's rays were still bright and sharp to his vision, still dizzy and blurry. He winced softly and blinked weakly at the twinkles of gold that sparkled at him peacefully like little golden stars.

Faintly, Ryou felt a hand hold his. He wearily tried to follow the brown blur that held his hand, and his eyes slowly fell on the man that had taken care of him all this time.

With a rush of pure certainty, Ryou smiled weakly at Marik.

And oh, how beautiful was Marik now….staring so distantly into the horizon, his amethyst eyes now glimmering lavender, deep in mauve thoughts. His face was free of angry veins and dark scowls…in fact, Ryou noted weakly, Marik's face was now free of any of the emotions that added to his dark atmosphere. In fact…Marik's face was now…

…peaceful.

Granted, there was that soft sadness that the dying sun reflected in his eyes; the regretful lavender that was clouded with dark lashes as Marik watched the sun sadly…

The whole world to Ryou now was nothing but light. It was not bright, piercing light, but it was soft, it was silky…it was as though gold and yellow patches and white clouds slowly began to blot his vision, with Marik, glowing like a pure, heavenly god, in the middle.

The whole sunset reflected off Marik's face so beautifully. For a moment, Ryou wasn't sure if he was back on the blimp or dying in Egypt…but for certain, Ryou knew he was just as happy.

Even if it meant that this smile would be his last…

The light began to die away, but Ryou wasn't sure if it was because the sun was finally setting, or if it was because his life was.

"…If you open your eyes," that rich, deep voice had whispered so softly, "…Mariku brought you your sunset."

Regardless as Ryou felt his last breath slip free from his exhausted lungs…Ryou found that he could not help but smile, his heart whispering the words that his lips could not.

_I love you, Mariku._

It was as though that confession was his redemption…his chest was no longer heavy, his lungs no longer in pain. His mind was clear, and his heart was alight with pure, soft joy. His confession seemed to slip into his last breath, so that, when Ryou's eyes fell closed, his chest finally rested, entirely at peace.

_Thank you._

The godly image of Marik swam from view, and all Ryou could see then, was nothing but darkness.

* * *

Long after the sun had set, Marik was still staring into the horizon. His heart was still reflecting the same sunrises and sunsets he had first seen on the blimp, with Ryou. With a sinking pain, his heart filled with sorrow and peace at the same time. Ryou…

Marik finally let his breath loose. The night was now alive, shimmering with its many stars, all of them blinking sadly down at Marik.

Slowly, Marik raised his head, and turned to look back at Ryou.

"Ryou…?"

Marik blinked. It was then when he realized that although Ryou's lips were parted in a small smile, his chest was no longer moving.

All movement stilled. Marik's blood seemed to freeze, and ice rushed through his veins and froze over his heart. As quickly as he could, he stumbled over to Ryou, resting against the well, and shook Ryou's shoulders quickly.

"Ryou," Marik breathed. "Ryou!" he said louder. "Ryou! Wake up! Ryou!"

Ryou remained silent. His head flopped onto his chest, his skin no longer burning to the touch. Marik's heart stopped, even though his chest was heaving. He quickly gathered Ryou in his arms and shook the other roughly.

"Ryou!" He shook Ryou again. "RYOU!"

Ryou did not reply, his smile fading away to a blank, emotionless slate. His cheeks were slowly draining of their feverous color, and gradually turning pale once more. His forehead, once scorching and burning to the touch, was now cool.

His normally healthy luster slowly disappeared into the color of snow, drained of warmth and cooling to the touch.

Marik's breathing slowly grew more rapid. Without thinking, he threw Ryou to the ground, and crammed his ear against Ryou's still chest.

Marik's eyes widened. There was no heartbeat.

No slow, steady pump. No weak, faint pulse. No rapid, feverous beating.

Nothing at all.

"No…" Marik breathed. He snapped up and immediately began to press on Ryou's chest, like all those other nights when Ryou temporarily stopped breathing. "No…no! Ryou….Ryou! Wake up! Wake up!"

_It's just another attack,_ Marik kept on telling himself, as he pumped like mad. _Another 2 seconds, and he'll wake up. And then I'll hold him, and tell him how he worried me, and how I'm …how I'm…I'm …_

"Come on, Ryou," Marik hissed, when Ryou's body would not respond. "Ryou, come on…come on, my little thief…my little thief…come on…"

_Don't make me go back on my promise. Please don't make me go back on my promise. Please wake up. Wake up. I'll do anything if you wake up._

His pulse rapidly increasing, Marik found himself panicking on his attacks on Ryou's chest. But no matter how hard he pumped, Marik found that there was no breath whispering from Ryou's lips, and no blood clotting for a bruise.

Instead, Ryou's body jerked limply at Marik's attempts, his arms and chest twitching from side to side from the force of Marik's pumps, like a lifeless, cotton doll.

"No…" Marik bit his lip and tried his best to quell the growing fear that swelled in his chest. "No…no…wake up, Ryou….damnit, Ryou…wake up…"

He slammed his hands down onto Ryou's chest, but Ryou did nothing. Marik watched in detached fear, his body stilling, his blood once more icing over.

Ryou was gone.

With a distant realization, Marik recognized that he felt nothing. All he could feel was a numbness in his chest, and a strange tingly sensation in his fingers. His throat was tight, but he could not recognize it.

"No…" he breathed. "No…"

With trembling hands, he brought Ryou to his chest, like some, fragile, delicate doll. He stared dumbly at the sleeping face resting against his chest. No warmth swelled his skin and no breath tickled his chest.

"No…" Marik slowly sank to his knees, and let his head fall onto Ryou's chest. "No…NO!"

_No…no…you promised…you promised you'd be okay. You promised me. I know I haven't kept any of my promises, but you…you promised! You promised you'd be okay! You…you …_

It was as if the world no longer mattered. No longer could Marik feel the night air, the cooling sand beneath his knees, or the sad, gentle breeze that tried to comfort him. He clutched onto the only thing that he realized, too late, that mattered.

Ryou was gone.

A choked, angry snarl made its way into Marik's throat. With every rage, anger, and sadness he had fought to deny, he threw Ryou's body onto the ground, and began to beat at it with his immature anger.

"YOU PROMISED ME!" he yelled at Ryou. "YOU PROMISED ME! YOU SAID YOU'D LIVE! YOU SAID YOU'D BE OKAY! YOU SAID…YOU SAID…"

With another angry snarl at his roar, he slammed himself onto Ryou's chest, and clutched at the cooling cloths tightly.

"You said you'd forgive me," Marik whispered harshly. "You said that mistakes didn't matter! You said that people who loved each other would pull through for anything! YOU SAID YOU'D BE OKAY! YOU PROMISED ME!"

With a choked, bitter snarl, Marik suddenly flopped limply over Ryou's chest. With a weak, apologetic shiver, he slowly picked up Ryou again, so delicately, so gently, and hugged him back into his arms.

"…You said you loved me…"

After those words had left his lips, the world had seemed to grow dead silent. In his anger, Marik would not let the apologies tear through his lips, even though he clutched onto the lifeless body so tenderly. What good were apologies now, too late to say them, to late for them to mean anything? He had screwed up, he had wasted time, hoping that he would never have to confront this one moment. He had been hoping for so long for Ryou to come out of it, for Ryou to say, "it's alright, I'll always forgive you," that he had forgotten that there was so much more to that.

He had known Ryou was fading away. Yet he watched, doing all that he could, and yet, doing nothing at all, watching the only thing that mattered slip away.

_I'm not…going to let you go,_ Marik hissed bitterly in his mind. _I will not…let myself dishonor everything I owe you…just because I couldn't say them here on Earth._

Slowly putting Ryou back down onto the ground, Marik closed his eyes and slowly reached into his breast pocket of his sleeveless shirt. His fingers closed upon cold alabaster as he pulled out a little black bottle, gripped tightly in his hands.

_I owe you everything, _Marik whispered as he briefly left his hand in Ryou's to uncork the bottle. He raised it to his eyes, totally unnerved, and watching the dark liquid within with emotionless apathy. The black liquid swirled in his vision, and tightening his hand back into Ryou's, he raised the bottle to his lips, and down the thing in one go.

_I'm going to give them to you. One way or another._

The black bottle fell from his lips, and shattered onto the ground. Onyx shards flew slowly into the crystalline sands, dotting the ground with faint dots of the poisonous contents that had remained. Above, Marik slumped forwards, his hand against his heart, feeling its heartbeat slowly dying out.

Within minutes, Marik had slumped to the side, against the well. Before Ryou and the world began to swim out of his vision, he groped about to encircle at least one arm around Ryou's frame. Even in death, Marik would show his devotion and protection, no matter how much he had screwed it up before.

_I have always promised I'd be with you,_ he whispered to Ryou, as he slowly dropped his head onto the boy's own. _I broke that promise before, but like so long ago, you brought me back here, to someplace I actually thought I could belong. You did keep your promise, the one you've never spoken except in those three words._

_I had said those three words to you once before. I broke my promise and I won't do it again. Even in death, before you face Anubis and his scale…I will be there, and I will do all I can should anything go wrong._

The world totally swam out of view, and darkness conquered Marik's vision. His final breath slipped from his lips.

_I said I'd always come back to you…right?_

His form relaxed and finally, Marik was still.

* * *

HOMG THAT TOOKE ME A WHILE. Please sorry for the partially Out-of-Characterness on Marik's part; I was trying to get all the versions of Mariks I've seen adn their aspects put together, since Yu-Gi-Oh alone only gives Marik one cardboard pesonality. His short temper and frustration over lack of control comes from the English-dubbed, his softness and realization that Ryou is leaving him is from the Chinese-dubbed, and his darkness and stubborness / calmness...apathy in the darkest of situations comes from the Japanese-subbed.

And also please excuse me for any area where Marik's personality doesn't quite transist well, or contradicts itself. I was trying to get all these elements of Marik-ism into him, while still trying to keep well to plot. It seems like Ryou has been sick for a while and I know that it's unrealistic, but...it's not entirely impossible. XD Plus, another reason for choppiness is because I've been writing different scenes on and off for the past few months since my last updated. I wrote the beginning first, then Anas's part, then Ryou's death, then back up to Marik's final scene wtih Ryou, then wrote Marik's death in after that. It's been kinda weird jumping back and forth with this chapter, but rest assured, despite its mishaps, this one chapter has been very thoroughly thought-out long before even the previous chapter was finsihed. Writing it was the tougher part.

Did I mention this is the finaly copy of the original chapter thirty, beta-read for at least FOUR times PLUS edited at least six? I wrote it up, sent it to my beta, edited, sent it to beta, edited, sent it to beta, edited, sent it to beta, edited, got it back, edited for the next two weeks, added scenes here and there, and final touchup actually done on the fan fiction network server. Yes, this has been one of the most toughest chatpers to write out, and I certainly hope that you readers enjoyed and apprecaited the effort going into this. XD

I think I might've just failed my History exam because of this, but the sacrifices one makes for fan fiction are never too great. XD

Please read and review! It took me so long to get this chapter up, I'd really like a good critique. I really hope that I will get some reviews that will reflect on my effort over the 'n'th time this chapter as been redone and over, so please, please, please REVIEW!!!

...It's not the end, don't worry!

-AL


	31. The First Reunion Part I

Chapter Thirty One: The First Reunion Part I

It seemed like eternity as Ryou fell through the darkness. Well…at least he thought he was falling. The world around him was utter blackness and the air felt as though it had been swirling about his being as he continued falling. He closed his eyes, relaxing; his body no longer felt in pain, his head felt clear once more, and thankfully, he could breathe.

If this was death, it wasn't too bad.

The world of darkness drifted about him, but it was not the same intimidating darkness that he once felt swirling into a shadowed oblivion. This one was much calmer, much more soft; it was as if he was slowly floating to the ground, falling upon invisible cushions and transparent feathers of newly transformed angels that caressed his skin and softened his fall. There were blankets of melted glass that slid about his being and cradled him to his descent; in the distance he could see faded outlines of silver doves that nipped at the blankets and flew him away, like a transparent carpet.

Ryou softly fluttered his eyes shut, his very soul feeling alight and weightless. Was this what it was like, to rest in eternal peace?

In the distance, he could hear recesses and remnants of his memories of Earth…Ryou supposed that these were supposed to be the quick flashes one saw before they died…but since he was already dead, that didn't make much sense whatsoever.

_Maybe it's to prepare me for my new life,_ Ryou wondered, but he really had to consider what type of life he'd have here. He had never been truly significant to anyone or anything…and he had fallen in love with a man, an evil man for that matter…under any circumstances, he shouldn't have been given a 'new life.'

Maybe he was just one of those people who weren't good nor bad; and they floated in the middle here, with the fallen angles with their lost, crystal feathers.

The memories started most recent, before rewinding, their voices floating in the wind.

_"Mariku will bring you your sunset."_

Ryou smiled in his peaceful sleep. A tear welled in one of his eyes, and it slid off his cheek as he continued to fall. When he opened his eyes, he could see the crystalline drop float farther and farther away from him. He reached out faintly to touch it, but he could no longer reach it.

_Mariku…_

More but softer voices filled the void. They gradually began to overlap one another.

_"Look at what Bakura and I got you at the festival Ryou! Would you like to come with us?"_

_"They have dancing, Ryou. Lots and lots of dancing and music."_

_"I came back."_

Ryou blinked as he faintly recalled each voice. Malik's…Bakura's….Marik's…

The soft twinge of the violin began to play and echo in the oblivion. Ryou snuggled into his soft glass blanket, feeling its coolness snug and warm against his body.

_"Who is he? My otouto…my younger brother."_

_"I promise I'll be there for your graduation, Ryou. Promise."_

_"Congratulations, Bakura-kun… you've just won a scholarship to Oxford! I'm sure your father and mother would be very proud."_

_"Top honor student, Bakura-kun…other than Kaiba-kun, of course…but congratulations, Bakura-kun! Imagine, my own student, top of his class and equally ranked to Seto Kaiba!"_

It took him a while, but Ryou was faintly realizing now that the feathers had slowly disappeared. The doves and the blanket remained, but they were slowing down. Ryou blinked and nuzzled sleepily into his blanket.

_'Hi Ryou! My name is Yugi! Why don't we be friends?"_

A tear welled up in Ryou's eye again, but he still cracked a small smile. "Yugi…" Ryou opened his eyes. "My first friend in so long…"

The voices drifted back and back.

_"Ryou, Amane wants you…"_

Ryou sniffled again. He curled up into his little ball.

_"Ryou-niiiiiii…" _That soft, adorable little voice…_ "Nii-san!! Amane wants to play! Amane play!"_

Another voice began to sweep the feathers and doves away. This one was soft yet crisp, sweet and sound. Her voice began to sing.

_"Hush now, my baby…be still now, don't cry…"_

The blanket began to rock slowly back and forth. Ryou sniffled and nodded into his blanket.

_"…Sleep as you're rocked by the stream…"_

Overlapping the sweet lullaby, Ryou could hear the distinct voice of his younger sister, singing happily and sweetly along with her mother.

_"Kieru hikoukigumo…Bokutachiwa miokutta…mabushikute nigeta…itsudatte yowakute…"_

Ryou smiled. "_We watched the fading vapor trails," _he recalled softly, _"they were so dazzling, I ran away – I was always weak…"_

_"Ano hi kara kawarazu…Itsumademo kawarazu ni…irarenakatta koto…"_

Ryou sniffled as he felt the blanket starting to really slow down. He braced himself for the hardness that he would soon lie upon.

_"I let go, frustrated by the fact…That I couldn't stay unchanged since that day…"_

_"Kuyashikute yubi wo…"_

_"Couldn't stay…"_

_"Hanasu…"_

_"Unchanged forever…"_

The blanket fell to the floor, and Ryou melted against the floor. He blinked and slowly got to his knees. Quizzically, he slowly cocked his head towards the side, listening to the songs of his sister and his mother…they were getting louder now…softer, but clearer and louder…like as if he could almost hear them whisper in his ear…

_"Sleep and remember my last lullaby…"_

A pinprick of light flickered before Ryou's eyes. With a sudden but silent blast, the light exploded in front of Ryou's eyes. Wind blew hard against him and he had to brace himself for it all. Through his squinted watering eyes, he saw a great door beginning to open, light blasting through at great intensity. Two figures were standing in its doorway.

Ryou slowly lowered his arms, and his eyes grew wide.

As suddenly as it had some, the wind and the light died a bit. The two figures remained.

Ryou shakily got to his feet. He blinked several times, unable to understand it all. It couldn't…it simply couldn't be.

The one to the right…her eyes were blue like his father's, but bright and alive and shining with joy and fun. Her hair was cut short and layered, and held together to one side by a small, homemade hairclip. Though certainly not like the five year old when she had passed away, she remained appearing the same age she would've been if she had lived…fifteen, fourteen maybe…

Ryou suddenly couldn't find his voice. His knees were shaking so badly he felt like he was about to faint again. His eyes slowly drifted over to the figure on the left.

There was no mistakening the resembling, porcelain skin. Nor the feminine beauty of her pale, virgin face, so unblemished and untouched. Her eyes were thick with white lashes, only increasing her mysterious beauty, and hiding the dark warm chocolate orbs that were her eyes. Her long white hair, hung in loose ringlets around her cheeks, was lightly braided and resting on one shoulder, which donned the simplest of white robes. It clung to her lean body like a fragile angel, slowly flipping in the dying wind.

Yale slowly raised her hand, her dark brown eyes welling with tears. Music floated from her parted pink lips.

_"So I'll be with you…"_

Ryou swallowed again, feeling tears slowly swell up into his own eyes. He quickly wiped them away, and huddled his arms to himself, shrinking away from the light almost shyly.

"M-…Mother…?"

His voice was so soft, in such a whisper, that he seemed to be no more than a lost child. In response, the mother smiled a sad, but grateful smile, but it was so quiet and so soft that it was barely noticeable. She raised her outstretched hand towards him again, and beckoned him towards her.

Opposite of her, Amane bounced up and down eagerly, tears of happiness in her eyes. A great smile was upon her face, but it was cracked with little sniffles of great joy.

"Ryou-nii!" she called. "Come on Ryou-nii! You can do it!"

Swallowing deeply, Ryou slowly took a step forward. The light continued to shine, encouragingly, as he slowly made his own journey of great acceptance into the light. The smile on Yale's lips grew slightly, but it still remained shy and composed, as it would always look. Ryou took another step, but he clumsily fell forwards, his knees shaking so badly that he couldn't seem to walk any longer.

_Brown eyes…_Ryou thought dumbly. _Big…brown eyes…like chocolate…_

_"You look just like her, don't you know?"_

_"Almost exactly like her…"_

_"As though your eyes were hers…"_

Ryou bit back his tears. In the distance, he heard his younger sister bounce and bounce like crazy. Her voice filled the echo of the barren darkness.

"Come on, nii-san!!" Ryou could hear her sneakers pounding against the floor. "Oh, Ryou-nii, please come!"

Swallowing again, Ryou pulled himself up and struggled to get closer to the light. As he was just a few meters away, Ryou stopped abruptly, as he recalled something that suddenly instilled fear into him.

He was this close…this close to everything he wanted most. But what if…what if he wasn't worthy enough…to have it?

_"This boy may not enter,"_ Ryou recalled Bobasa saying. The scales nearly went through metamorphosis in front of Ryou's eyes. _"He does not deserve to enter…"_

But before Ryou could continue his berating, something knocked hard and eager into him. Barely crying out, Ryou immediately wrapped his arms around the littler body into him, shielding her as they fell to the floor. A tear soaked his bare chest and despite the familial connections, Ryou flushed at their closeness. He was almost in tears too.

"Ryou-nii…" Amane whispered into her brother. "Oh, Ryou-nii, please come home…please come home with us."

Wetting his lips nervously, Ryou slowly brought his arms around his younger sister, and held her tenderly. Tears welled in his eyes and he closed them, burying his face into his sister's bob of hair.

"A-…Amane…" Ryou felt his voice crack. "My…my younger sister…my…."

He clutched his sibling close, feeling the tears burst through his shut eyelids and stream down his cheeks. With all his might, Ryou wrapped his arms tight around his sister and began to cradle her protectively, like any brother would after years of missing her.

"…Imouto…chan…"

Ryou felt no embarrassment from crying into his sister's hair. After all, they had always long decided he should've been born the girl and her the boy…

The ethereal figure of Yale slowly floated from her place at the great doorway, and towards her children. Ryou suddenly felt very self-conscious and clutched onto his sister all the more. He hadn't seen his mother in so long…would she hate him? Would she still love him? Would she be disappointment that he had never become the good son that could make his father stay at home?

She knelt down beside them, and at this close proximity, Ryou could almost see his own reflection in his mother's face. Her side bangs in ringlets brushed against her cheek as she leaned closer and closer to him, as though almost making sure that this was her son. A faint, hesitant touch of her fingers drew Ryou's cheek away, but it was with that same hesitance Ryou nuzzled back.

He suddenly felt seven years old again, in the need of his mother badly. Yale's eyes fluttered closed and tears trickled down her cheek. Her arms were outstretched when she opened her eyes again.

"Ryou…" her voice was so soft, so breathless with unshed tears of sadness and happiness at the same time. "…Ryou…my son…"

Choking back tears, Ryou gave up all his rationale and launched himself into his mother's arms. Amane followed suit, wrapping her arms tightly around him. When Yale brought her arms around her son's shoulders, both her children were crying in her lap; Amane onto Ryou, Ryou into her.

She tried her best to hush Ryou, who was quietly sobbing into her shoulder. Sniffling, Amane snuggled herself into her older brother, who tightened his embrace. Yale sighed and let her tears flow too, slowly as she stroked her son's hair.

_"Hush now, my baby…be still now, don't cry…"_ She looked down at Amane, and stroked her hair too. _"Sleep as you're rocked by the stream…"_

Amane sniffed and raised her head. She watched as her older brother curled up in their mother's arms, having the chance to finally hold her too once more.

_"Sleep and remember my last…lullaby…"_

The light from the open doorway began to emerge, and finally, consumed them all in a flash, like a great hand sweeping them into the afterlife.

_"So I'll be with you…when you dream…"_

* * *

For Marik, however, the fall wasn't so nice. He was zooming past everything again, all the hatred and anger and pain that fueled his life and forced it to evolve into the dark thing that it was. He did his best to ignore them all; the screams of pain of Malik's initiation, the torturous birth of an evil spirit that manifested from the depths of sadness, anger and jealousy, forged from the fires of hell and equally painful…

He ignored the memories of wondering about innocence; living in Malik's mind, wondering if he himself had such a thing as a mother. If he had a bastard of a father, what would his mother have been like?

He ignored the memories of him, newly manifested and barely even one years old, trying to struggle with the idea of coping with darkness, and yet, still yearn for that sunlight that enthralled Malik to no one. He remembered watching through Malik's eyes and feeling brief flickers of pain and remorse for Isis…but Marik had considered such thoughts as weak, and he carelessly ran them aside.

Closing his eyes, Marik ignored the demons that were swirling about him. He merely slid his arms about him in clean strokes, as though swimming, so that he could dive faster to the bottom. He prayed that Ryou had landed safely and softly, and that he would be all right. Perhaps the white-haired one had already landed, and was sleeping peacefully, unconscious, at the bottom.

More memories flew him by.

_He nearly fell off a blimp, you know…_

Marik squeezed his eyes shut and tried to block out his ears.

_He died for you once, you know…_

The wind began to whistle in Marik's ears.

_He was crying so much when you left…you were cocky, you were stupid…you honestly thought that you could handle the Pharaoh in one final duel, and you screwed it up. You screwed up your promise and broke his heart. You came back and broke his heart. _

Marik grunted as shoots of pain shot through his nerves in his head. The memories were getting harder and harder to ignore.

_You saw him after he left, after he was hurt and tortured…but did you ever give a thought to how he must've felt _when_ he was tortured? Did you ever think that maybe the pain was so much for him, that he longed for you to come and save him, that he begged to be released so that he could find you…Did you ever even think that for once, he had been screaming, writhing, crying out the Gods to bring you back to save him? _

_Did you ever imagine how terrible the pain was? How mind shattering it was to have his legs crushed and his back whipped to shreds? Or his back to be scarred, his face to be slapped, his very soul violated? Did you ever imagine the humiliation he had to endure, shivering naked under their gaze, under their power…having everything he knew torn away from him, his ring, his locket, his every own heart and soul when they took the one thing he had given to you first. _

_Most of all, did you ever imagine the deep, internal agony he was forced to endure? Forcing to come for strangers, forcing to please strangers, forcing to humiliate himself in his nakedness for people that he did not know, for people that were hurting him and taking him against his will? _

_If you did, you were an ass…to never even ask him how he was after all that…to walk out on him like some self-pitied jerk. To screw over with his innocent head, traumatized enough, by your selfish words and dark attitude? He tried so hard to be everything you said you wanted him to be…and he never even mentioned to you how hard it was…_

_You expect him to have come to you to admit him being taken against his will, Marik? Did you expect that you had earned that trust? WELL YOU DIDN'T._

_…Cause you never even asked._

Grunting at the blaze of white-hot pain that suddenly erupted in his head, Marik had to stop his swift descent to clutch at his head. The Eye on his forehead burned like molten lava; the pain shot through all his mental nerves and cut them raw. If he had thought he was insane before, this was so much worse.

_You didn't even ask…_

Squinting through his eyes, Marik saw the ground coming. He braced himself.

_You couldn't even say sorry._

When he hit the ground, he hit the ground hard. But Marik couldn't feel the pain anymore.

* * *

Slowly, Amane led Ryou into this new world, holding her hand loosely in his. Yale had dispersed, letting her son alone to take in his new surroundings one thing at a time. As they made their way up over little hills and by streams and passed chirping birds, Amane kept on looking over at her older brother with concern, his lost eyes and expression beginning to worry her.

Squeezing his hand, Amane promptly sat down on a nice patch of sunlight, and brought her brother down with her. She had to smile at his total surprised and startled look.

"Ryou-nii," she murmured. "Are you happy to be here?"

At this, Ryou blinked and turned to face his sister. Breaking into an unsure smile, he shyly patted his younger sister's hand.

"U-uh…of course," Ryou quickly looked away. "It's just…so much to take in… at once."

Amane nodded and snuggled closer to her brother. "But you…you never used to blush in front of me before, nii-san, not like this. I know we haven't seen each other in so long, but…" She gently touched his face and directed him to look at her again. "…We're not strangers, nii-san…I'm still your little Ane-chan that you used to call…And you're still my Ryou-nii." She wrapped her arms around him and brought him into a hug. "I still love you, Ryou-nii…"

Breaking into a tearful smile, Ryou hugged his younger sister too, closing his eyes and burying his face into her hair. He sniffled to keep back his tears, and the scent of lavender and vanilla filled his senses.

"…I know," he admitted, more confidently this time. "…I've missed you too so much, Ane-chan…It's just that…" He sighed and dropped his arms loosely to around her waist. "…Things have…changed so much since we were little…I still love you, of coure, Ane-chan…but…"

At this, Amane raised her head and suddenly looked at him fiercely. "Don't you DARE tell me that you've done something to gain our contempt!" She bit her lip and touched his cheek. "Ryou-nii…Okaa-san and I know about him….and him." Here, Amane shifted her eyes and rolled them slightly. "…We know about Bakura…we…" Amane sighed, and looked over a few more hills to her left. "There's a pond there, Ryou-nii. All the mothers always huddle there because they can see their children grow up on earth through that pond. Mother was always crying there... and in her room. She has a mirror like that in her room too, but I've never seen who was on the other side of it…I'm pretty sure it has to be you though…"

Smiling, Ryou gave a little sigh, and gently stroked back his sister's hair. His smile is much broader this time.

"You've been …watching me?" he repeated softly, eyes welling up with tears again. Amane nodded.

"So…you don't have to hide anything from us, Nii-san," she encouraged. "We still love you for it, no matter what's happened to you…Mom's so mad at Otou-san right now…" she laughed and shook her head. "Ever since Dad came, Mom's never even spared him a glance…she's so sad that he's never taken good care of you…"

Ryou sighed and lowered his head. "It's really not his fault…Mum shouldn't really be mad at him…"

Amane smiled and kissed her brother's cheek. "It's okay. Okaa-san and Otou-san will get over it. We're a family again, Ryou! A family again…" She looked up at his face. "Like my haircut?"

At this, Ryou laughed and nodded. Affectionately, he reached out and brushed back her bangs, gazing at them quizzically. He then finally took the time to look over his younger sister and to see how she had turned out.

"You're so beautiful, Ane-chan," Ryou sighed fondly, like a mother who hadn't seen her daughter in decades. Ryou had to smile at the little preteen lumps that showed his younger sister still hadn't grown out entirely yet, complete with her almost stick-like legs and slightly curvy hips. "…you just started growing, Ane-chan?"

Amane snorted and laughed. "Hm, you're accusing me of being a late bloomer?" She poked at his lips. "You haven't even reached your puberty yet buddy, from the sounds of it. You _still_ sound more like a girl than me!"

Ryou's smile broke into a grin. "Yes," he chuckled, "I suppose."

"Oh, don't you 'I suppose' me," Amane chided, her eyes twinkling. "You lowering your voice like that just to sound like my older brother…but just watch, I'm going to bring out that girly side in you again! TICKLE ATTACK!"

"ACK!" Ryou immediately fell back onto his back to avoid his sister's launch. However, that proved ungraceful as Amane merely flopped over him and began to tickle him like crazy. He burst out into gales of laughter and giggles.

"ACK! AMANE! AMANE! S-STOP IT!"

"Nii-chan is ticklish, nii-chan is ticklish!" Amane laughed, running her fingers lightly over Ryou's ribs, stomach and side. Ryou squealed and curled into himself every which way, but Amane always managed to find some place else to tickle. Luckily enough through is laughter, Ryou managed to grip one of Amane's wrists and flipped his younger sister onto her back, and began to tickle her relentlessly too.

Amane gave a burst of laughter as her older brother found all her ticklish spots again too. And damn her older brother for being gentler than she was! There was something that made her ticklish spots extra ticklish when Ryou tickled them, how he was so soft and gentle that he merely ran his fingers lightly over, as if they were non-existent. Amane struggled and laughed and giggled, but to no avail of her older brother.

Switching tactics and laughing, Ryou suddenly swooped his younger sister up and fumbled her onto his back. Squealing, Amane clutched onto her older brother in his piggyback, and bounced about.

"Piggyback! Piggyback!"

Laughing, Ryou hoisted her up and began to run about from side to side, swaying and driving her nuts when they came close to falling over. He pretended to stumble often like his clumsy self, delighting in the shrieks of laughter. At one point, however, he miscalculated his swerve, and both of them landed right into the nearest stream, bobbing up and down and flapping about like a pair of drowned baby ducks.

As predicted, a water fight ensued, the smacking of water being heard as little waves flew over their heads. "Cheating", Amane started to use her martial art moves to create bigger waves, but after a few tries, Ryou got the hang of his own moves again, and retaliated. From the distance, one could hear as they made up names for different moves, some of them sounding so stupid and ridiculous that it was no wonder they were laughing.

"Flapping Egg Smack!"

"Broccoli Cheese Whack!"

"Hockey Luck!"

"Pocky Duck!"

In the distance, Yale Bakura stood, watching as the little white-bobs of her son and daughter disappear and reappear amongst the water. Both were soaking wet but laughing, splashing each other to no end.

Yale Bakura smiled fondly, and slowly returned into her cave.

* * *

It took Marik a while to realize he was lying smack flat on the ground. The ground was equally black as his surroundings, so it still gave the illusion he was falling. Snorting, Marik finally pulled himself back up, and raised his head.

A baritone of laughter came chuckling in; Marik instantly tensed up and looked around him.

"Ah, great Marik Ishtar, you didn't worry yourself," the voice chuckled. Marik's eye twitched slightly at the slight mocking tone in the voice. "After all, I'm not here to harm you…much."

Marik rolled his eyes and looked around the darkness. "Show yourself, you ass!"

The voice chuckled. "Now, now, is that any way to speak to a god?" The chuckle drifted into a sigh. "Nevermind, I suppose I can humor you a bit before sending you to Ammut…" With a flicker of a snap, light shot up through the ground and at the sides, trailing purple light to form what seemed to be eerie and shriveled walls. Marik watched as the walls manifested; some of them grew dead yellow-green at the top, others a dull purple. Black curtains were strung throughout the grand hallway, along the walls, decorated by gaudy golden heads of the different Egyptian gods. A skeletal candelabrum of gold and silver descended from the sky; on its own accord, it began to flicker fire. Marik turned slowly around and faced the front.

Before him stood a great throne that reached the heavens, stood upon five great steps. On the throne sat a great, humongous-sized man, but instead of a normal head, it had an even greater black jackal's head. The tongue was lolling lazily out and licking its canines as one would lazily pick at teeth with toothpicks. His furry cheek rested on his human hands in almost a bored way, the other hand tapping lightly on the armrest of his chair with long black claw-like fingernails. He was donning a black robe of jackal skin, embroidered with gold and white linens. His sculpted legs were apart, and he was sitting back almost casually in his chair.

Marik's eyelids fell half-lidded in flat amusement. "…Hello, Anubis…"

The god clicked his tongue and waved a lazy finger. "Ah, but that is Lord Anubis to you, dear Marik. T'is no way to address your master, is it…"

"You're hardly my master," Marik said succinctly, though Anubis laughed merrily.

"My dear child," the god chuckled, "you are but the only person I can possibly believe could take my place as the God of Death. That is, of course, if I ever die…" The god burst out laughing at his own joke. "Oh but of course! I _can't_ die, I'm _immortal._ Oh ha ha, tough luck Marik…" The god stopped his laughter and leaned over to preen his eyes at Marik's stiff and unfriendly form. "…after all, you _would _have made a rather impressing God of Death."

Marik merely flattened his gaze at the god. "What is it that you want from me?" Marik asked coldly. "It's rather unlike you to actually greet the members of the dead. Don't you simply chuck them into either the kingdom of joy or the teeth of hell after you go, 'eeny meeny meiny mo'?"

The God of Death snorted and pretended to act shocked. "Of course not!" he exclaimed, appalled. "My good Ra, Marik, do you honestly think I'm that inconsiderate? No…no, my dear Marik, you are far too special to be considered the death treatment of a normal mortal. Normally when one dies, their soul has already been judged the moment they leave the earth; they do not face the scales in a literal sense but rather, they are sent off immediately to where they are supposed to be…" The God of Death reached over his armrest to curl his long fanged fingers under a cup of wine. "…so they don't once regret the fact that they have died."

At this new news, Marik stiffened rather noticeably. Immediately, he looked from side to side in hope to see the different partings of Heaven and Hell; none greeted him and Anubis laughed.

"Ah, no, Marik," Anubis took a sip of his wine and waved a lazy finger at Marik. "YOU, my dear friend, are not even a real mortal. YOU, my wondrous little mini-God, are a spirit, a creation, a manifestation of pure rage and hatred that grew too much for such an innocent human soul to contain." The god lazily drew a picture of a scale in the air; it manifested in a ghostly golden outline. "You see, Marik…" His fingers arced slowly from side to side, the scale mocking his fingers. "…A human moral has rather unique imbalance of dark and light that makes them human. Your host, that little Ishtal boy, has a slight abundance more of dark than he has of light, but he is slowly regaining his own lighter side through his rather…" The God of Death chuckled. "Healthy relationship soon? Although I sorely detest the idea of him with that little thief…"

Marik's lips twitched into snarl. "What about Ryou?"

The God of Death raised his eyebrows. "Ah! Yes, the little boy who you adored…hm yes." He flicked his fingers idly at the scale; it dropped to one side and then slowly disappeared. "Hm yes. Needless to say that you will not see the boy again…"

"Where has he gone?" Marik demanded. He took a step forward. "Tell me where he is!"

Anubis's lips curled into a smirk, baring a little of his fangs. "Such adoration for a simple little mortal boy…Well, you don't need to worry about him." He waved his hands idly. "The boy has gone to where he belongs: in the Kingdom of Osiris, of course. The boy has suffered already too much than he deserves on earth, so naturally I sent him to eternal happiness…" His eyes raked over Marik. "But of course, you can't join him, Marik. Never mind that you are evil and most likely deserve the teeth of Ammut, but also the fact that you are merely a spirit. In fact, you're not even…"

The god slowly cocked his head to the side, leaning on his hand casually.

_"…Human."_

At this, Marik's eyes widened. The whole room seemed to go still for the longest of time, before his eyes flashed and he stormed up the aisle and up onto the steps of the throne.

Immediately Anubis stood, but he neither looked frightened nor even angry. Instead, he watched as Marik came up close to him, nearly two feet shorter, glaring up at him with more hatred than any other mortal that Anubis had ever seen. He smirked.

"The man who's lost his dignity and his pride and his lover still has enough guts to stand up to a God…" Anubis raked his eyes over Marik's form. "Amazing."

Gritting his teeth, Marik swiped up an arm to grab the god by the cloak, but Anubis merely impeded the hand's ascent with a short and firm grip. Hissing, Marik clutched his hand, feeling the pressure around his wrist build.

"I want to see him," Marik hissed. "I don't care what fucking deal you want to cut with me, I want to see him."

Anubis grinned. "The little Shadow monster has heart, does he?" With a swift move, the god backhanded Marik off the stairs and back onto the ground. "Do you honestly think that you are special, Marik? You may not be human, but you were given the chance and you destroyed it. Did you honestly think that I, even after everything you've done, would ever let you _in _the Kingdom of Osiris and allow you to see your lover?"

The God turned around and brushed his seat, before sitting back on his throne. "Ryou does not deserve you," Anubis said shortly. "The boy is better off in the Kingdom with his mother, father and sister. Take your memories as the final mementos of your lover." The god raised his hand and a judge's gavel formed in his long fingered grip. "Ammut will see you now, Marik. Goodbye."

As the gavel started to descend, Marik watched with his eyes narrowed and his breath short and quick. This was it. This was the end. He had failed Ryou in every which way possible. Even in death, he could not give Ryou any last words to apologize for his behavior. As Marik closed his eyes and waited for the defending thud of the gavel, he knew that it was over.

_"Wait."_

The slow swish of the god's hand stopped, and from the corner of his eye, Marik saw a glowing case of light from his left. In the radiating light, a tall women stood serenely, her hands folded over one another against her long, linen robe. Her skin was a pale tanned color, of light caramel; her long black hair under her hood was pulled back and straight…Marik blinked as he raised his head.

Her eyes…were familiarly amber…

Her soft smile was gentle, and her demeanor was nowhere intimidating. Her gaze slowly floated to his, and her smile broadened.

"…Stand, Marik."

Quickly, Marik did as he was told, only because lying on the ground looked rather weak. He quickly brushed himself off and coughed self-consciously. The woman laughed, a soft twinkling that was charismatic and easily loved.

"Marik…how strong you have grown…"

At this point, Marik found that he couldn't even look at the woman any longer. He quickly looked away and scratched his head unsurely, his other hand fingering the locket in his sarong pocket.

Anubis didn't look pleased, despite her calming atmosphere. "Auset, what is the meaning of this?"

The woman – Auset – merely looked back at Anubis's great form, and did not falter. "I'm here to ask you a favor, Lord Anubis…" Her eyes fleetingly drifted to Marik. "…on behalf of many, my lord…"

Anubis's eyes narrowed. "On behalf of who? How did you leave the Kingdom of Osiris anyway?"

Auset's golden eyes lowered to her linen dress. "…Osiris's kingdom is that of happiness, my lord…" Her eyes flickered back to Marik. "But I am afraid that many of us are not happy…"

Anubis's eyes narrowed. "You can tell all of those crying mothers back home that I will not grant favors, no matter who sends you!"

Auset merely raised her eyes at him, and her features softened into a soft, subtle plea. "Your highness, if you could…I would like to ask you a favor…on behalf of Marik and Yareko…" She looked over at Marik, and raised her hand. "After all…where will you send him, Anubis? He is neither human nor soul…but he tries so hard…" She beckoned him over. "Marik…I believe you had a proposition…?"

Blinking, Marik found his legs striding over to the friendly woman. When he stopped short of her, she briefly touched his shoulder in an affectionate way, as a mother would do to her seventeen-year-old son.

"Marik…?"

Regaining his composure, Marik coughed and harshly took a step away from her. "…Anubis," he stated clearly. "I merely ask that you allow me to visit the Kingdom of Osiris. To visit Ryou. Ryou Bakura."

Anubis narrowed his eyes. "And why would I do that?"

"To give another chance," Auset stepped in. "Neither of them had a true chance, Lord Anubis…" She fluttered from his side and towards the god. "Will you break your promise to Yareko, as you have done so to me? It is not their fault for their own destinies…"

Anubis growled, but he seemed to be listening. His eyes raked over back to Marik.

"What do you want with Ryou? You want to bring him back to earth, is that it?"

Marik closed his eyes and nodded with a silent sigh of impatience. He raised his eyes again.

"Give me a day," Marik tried. "Just a day. If he returns to me on his own will, then bring us back to earth to live out our lives the way we were meant to. If he doesn't…" Here, Marik paused and he sighed, his heart suddenly feeling very heavy. "If he doesn't…" his voice grew soft. "…Then it is obvious he is happy here, and I will gladly walk into the mouth of Ammut…if he rejects."

Anubis narrowed his eyes again. "If I do this to every star-struck lover, I'd have Ra on my case…"

Auset spoke up. "Even Ra is not happy with the decision that is going to happen…he wants to give Marik a second chance. I come from him directly just now. Even as we speak, he hides the surprise that one day he will tell Yareko…how she mourns for her own son because of the strings of destiny…" Auset took a step forward again and dropped to her knees.

"Please…Lord Anubis," she pleaded. "For our sakes. You promised us…after all."

Growling, Anubis stood up. Snapping his fingers, ghostly manifestations of chains wrapped themselves around Marik's wrists and ankles. Instantly Marik was alert and most pissed, but Anubis's raised hand stopped his struggles.

"All of the Millennium Item holders….destined to be condemned for their mistakes for releasing Lord Zork from his resting place…" Anubis lowered his eyes. "Even for Yareko's son, I can do nothing…it is not in my power to give him another second chance."

Auset smiled. "Ra has already passed his decision. No matter how terrible her son is as a mortal, he has great values for everything else he holds dear…" She stood. "Can you truly blame them, after being in the wicked presence of Lord Zork?"

Anubis sighed and lowered his hand. "No….even I fear what will happen should Lord Zork once again be revived…" He looked back at Marik. "Alright then. Under circumstances that my superiority…Ra…" He beckoned to the light that Auset had came out of. "You get your proposition, Marik. The boy says yes, you go home with him on earth and continue your lives as if uninterrupted. The boy says no…" Anubis raised his head sternly. "Then you will go to the mouth of Ammut, and there will be no more second chances. Understood?"

Taking a deep breath, Marik nodded, and turned towards the glow of light. He looked at his wrists and gave his god a flat look.

"Do you normally have kinky relationships with your dead victims?"

The god laughed and shook his head. "No…no. That is merely a way of showing those in the Kingdom that you are a temporary guest. If you are not by the doors by sundown tomorrow, then those chains will automatically pull you back, and you will go straight to Ammut."

Marik snorted and adjusted one. "Lovely."

For once, Anubis grinned. "I know. Hey, I have to have some enjoyment out of this too, don't I?"

Snorting, Marik rolled his eyes and started to stride towards the light. Halfway, he was stopped by Auset, her gentle eyes twinkling up at him. For some strange reason, Marik felt small under her gaze, and couldn't meet hers.

He heard her chuckle and press a gentle hand into his chest.

"That is why I can give you a second chance," she whispered. "In many ways, you are like your father…and in so many ways, you are better than him, Marik…"

Marik lowered his head and closed his eyes. "I'm nothing like him," he said bitterly. Auset smiled and softly touched his cheek.

"For you to feel this regret," she whispered, "I know you must have considered it before. Those nights when you awoke, yearning so deeply to return to your lover…your father was a violent man too, but he was also gentle and misunderstood in his own way…" She touched his other cheek, and turned his face back to face hers. "For you to feel that regret, to fight so hard because you did not want to hurt him, for feeling sorry and bringing flowers to him when you did…" Auset's smile broadened, and her eyes twinkled softly with tears. "..that makes you so much different than your father, Marik…but you must realize…you also have his strong…and good points too."

Marik sighed and shrugged. "I'm cold, I'm harsh, and that's what I'll ever be."

Auset's smile broke into a grin and she brushed back a bit of his hair. " You aren't to me, Marik…" Gently, she brought him close to her, and slowly began to stroke his hair. "A mother will always love her child, no matter what or who he ends up being."

Although he had never met her before, Marik couldn't help but rest his forehead against her friendly shoulder. With all the strength he could muster, as though it took great strength and was incredibly hard to say, he managed to mumble something that made Auset beam.

"…. Thanks….Mother."

* * *

Meanwhile, Ryou and Amane had finished playing in the river, and were drying off in the sunny patch on the meadow. Yale had just drifted from her room and brought them towels and sandwiches. Ryou, albeit his normally large appetite anyway, was starving since he hadn't had enough to eat while he was sick. As soon as the aroma of chicken and drizzled cheese and crisp lettuce, he immediately grabbed one and promptly bit into it. Hungry too, Amane had taken one as well as was eating happily while Yale started to dry her hair.

Soon it became a little picnic, with the sandwich platter refilling itself magically with things Ryou always had loved to eat. Great subways sandwiches and cheesecake and most of all, creampuffs!

Smiling, Yale watched as her son and daughter enjoyed themselves immensely, eating, chatting, and drinking cool lemonade in the warmth of the sunshine. As she listened to their idle chattering (Amane was particularly very interested in Ryou's apparently fruity relationship: "So what's it like, you know, doing it with a guy?" "E-Excuse me? I-…it's…not a big deal…"), she saw the tall figure of her friend in the distance; cloaked and slowly pulling her long straight hair out of her hood. Immediately, Yale's eyes widened, and she quickly stood, watching as Auset made her way over the hills.

Someone was with her. Someone very familiar.

Summoning more plates of food and drink, Yale quickly made an excuse to leave and hurried off to greet Auset and her companion before they made it to Ryou and Amane. Too caught up in their own conversation, Ryou and Amane didn't notice as Yale left over the hills and towards the two figures in the horizon.

* * *

"You know, Okaa-san got really mad at you know, Otou-san leaving you and all," Amane commented. Ryou idly bit into a piece of apple.

"She doesn't have to be," Ryou mumbled. "I know that he meant well." He looked around. "Where is he anywhere?"

Amane smiled. "Aw, he's trying to restring his violin…plus he's too shy and too nervous about coming out to see you right now. Apparently Okaa-san got so mad at him that he doesn't dare come out until the welcome dinner…Oops." At this, Amane quickly giggled and pressed her hand to her lips. "…Shh. When it happens, act surprised."

Ryou laughed back and bit into a piece of cantaloupe next. Amane giggled too.

"You know, Okaa-san got so sad whenever she saw how you lived your life," Amane commented softly. "She really wanted to be with you, you know. She couldn't let you go."

Ryou smiled sadly and gently patted his sister on the head. "…I'm sorry that she felt that way," Ryou said sincerely, "…but I'm here now…she doesn't have to be sad. I'm here, it was never her fault…never." Ryou gently brushed his hand against his sister's cheek. "I missed her so much…I'd never blame her. Ever. Or you. Or Dad."

At the touch, Amane smiled serenely and sighed. "Yes, I know, big brother." She closed her eyes. "…So like…what's it like…when you got together with what's his name…?"

Blinking, Ryou smiled idly and stroked her hair. "Who?"

"You know…what's his face, the guy that you did it with…" She noticed Ryou's immediate blush. "Ah, right, Marik, right? Mariku…?" She attempted to pronounce it authentically, but only ended up making it sound cute through her strong Japanese accent.

At the name, Ryou's eyes suddenly lost their twinkle, and his hand stopped pausing. Blinking slowly, as though recalling something very far away, he looked away.

"Yes…" He slowly dropped his hand. "Marik…"

Sensing her brother's change in mood, Amane quickly went to his side, concerned. "Nii-san? Are you alright?"

Suddenly unable to look at his younger sister, Ryou nodded weakly. "Ah…yeah." He sniffed and tried to smile. "…I'm fine."

A look of comprehension seemed to slowly dawn on Amane's face. Her eyes sad, she reached over and gave her brother a hug.

"…You miss him, don't you?" she whispered. "You actually…do love him."

Biting his lip, Ryou nodded, and gave a shaky sigh. Slowly, he reached around his younger sister, and pulled her close.

"I…" his voice shook, borderline emotional. "…I…don't think he ever loved me…though."

Worried for her brother's sake, Amane held him tight to her. She felt his face into her shoulder.

"…I'm sure he did," Amane whispered. "I mean…I know he was…" Deflating, she sank into her brother's hold, and gently just began to pat his back. "…Did it…it must've hut a lot…didn't it? When they…took you away…and when you got sick…"

Taking a deep breath, Ryou nodded. Amane sighed sadly and held him snugly.

"….He was a stupid jerk for doing that to you," Amane whispered bitterly. Ryou shook his head in her shoulder.

"No…no…" Ryou pulled back. "Don't blame him…he…had a lot going on too."

Amane sighed and gently brushed away the small tears that had streaked his face. "…I'm sure…he loves you," she sighed. "I'm pretty sure."

Smiling weakly, Ryou nodded and held her hand against his cheek. "…I doubt it…" Ryou admitted quietly. "But…it's nice to believe."

* * *

Yale looked up sharply.

"You're taking my son away?" she whispered hoarsely.

As soon as they had reached the hills, Marik had spotted Ryou and what seemed to be like his…younger sister? Immediately, Marik wanted to run towards them, wanted to grab Ryou and greet him…

But as soon as he hoped to do so, a pale woman had drifted into his view. No matter how soft her appearances were, however, there was no hiding that sharp wariness that she held in her sad, dark brown eyes. Marik had immediately been taken aback by the resemblance between the two.

She was a beautiful woman, she truly was.

Before he could even utter a word, Yale exchanged words with Auset in Egyptian, which surprised Marik. Surely…surely the women wouldn't know any Egyptian at all, being a pure-blooded Japanese?

As they walked, Yale was humming to herself, almost nervously to calm down her nerves. It was the same lullaby that Marik had heard so many times before in passing.

_"Hmn h….my baby….be still now don't cry…"_

She had led them to her room, which from the distance resembled a cave. Apparently, even after Marik entered, it still seemed to be like a cave, with jagged entrances and bumpy roads. Through it all though, Marik felt that he had seen this cave before. A grand mirror with its shiny reflection rippling stood in the corner, and drawers and chests, although neat, were opened and scattered in organized heaps.

Marik had found this a strange juxtaposition of two people very familiar to him…

And now, there they stood, watching as Yale reacted to their proposition. She had sat herself down before the mirror, and was not looking very pleased with Marik whatsoever. Marik was surprised. He had originally though Yale Bakura as someone extremely gentle, and easily pushed over, much like Ryou.

"That's what you're doing," Yale repeated hoarsely. "You're taking my son away. Isn't it."

Marik was somewhat surprised at Yale's reaction. Perhaps it was because he had only seen Ryou mad once, but he hadn't expected Yale to be so… fiery either. Marik frowned and eyed her warily.

Her hair, long and smooth and curled, was resting on her shoulder, and she was twirling anxiously at the end of the braid. Her large brown eyes were fluttered with mysterious white eyelashes that looked always dotted with droplets of tears. But, despite the soft demeanor that she radiated…there was something distinctive about the slant of her eyes when she creased her eyebrows at him, the way her brown eyes could turn so quickly into something harsh…

And was it just him that he thought…for a fleeting moment…that the narrow slant of Yale's sharp eyes even resembled those of Yami Bakura's…?

Marik internally shook himself. He needed to get to the topic on hand.

"Forgive me," Marik forced out, seeing his mother give him a warning glace. He gave the skies a deadened look and long _dearly_ to go back home, where he had no parents to respect or any one else's parents to respect. If his mother thought he was going to call this woman anywhere close to "_Mrs. Bakura"_, his mother was _dead_ wrong. Auset sensed her son's internal discomfort and spoke on his behalf.

"Yale, dear, no," Auset admonished gently. She strode forwards in a flurry of linens and sat herself next to Yale, whose large brown eyes had begun to shimmer with fearful tears. Her white curls even fell over her shoulders as Ryou's did as she shied into herself when Auset approached.

"You're taking my son away," Yale said slowly. She suddenly fired up, her eyes flashing. "You're not taking my son away! Not again!"

"Yale, please calm down," Auset hushed. She quickly grabbed one of Yale's pale hands and clasped it into her own dark ones reassuringly. "No, we are not going to take your son away…Marik just wants to ask you a proposition."

Yale's dark brown eyes immediately shifted warily to Marik, and this time, Marik was _sure _that those narrow slants were identical to Yami Bakura's.

_Great,_ Marik thought. _My lover's mother is a demonic twist between him and his psychotic darker half. Wonderful._

"And what proposition is that?" Yale asked softly, though her voice was still rough from her tears.

Auset smiled and patted Yale's hand. "You see, Yale…Marik thought…"

"…That I could make a deal with Anubis and hope to bring Ryou home," Marik finished crudely. He steeled himself to face Yale's tear-streaked face straight on, and this time, tried to force some respect into his tone. "You see…" Marik tried to think of a way to be polite without saying 'Mrs,' or 'Bakura'. "…_Yareko-san_…" Marik cursed himself. His Japanese sounded so foreign, but nevertheless, he avoided calling Yale by her first, last, or title name. "….I had----"

Yale interrupted briefly, her eyes wide. "How do you know my name?"

Marik paused for a moment, wondering indeed, where he had heard Yale's proper Japanese name before. Other than, of course, his mother mentioning it in passing to Anubis…but no…there was a mention of it…sometime before…

_"The name Yale…" _Marik recalled. _That wasn't her actual name, was it? Ryou said….someone had said…that his father couldn't pronounce her name…_

_But who had told me that? Was it…Ryou? It had to be….or was it…_

Marik narrowed his eyes in thought, and took a stab at it.

"…Your son told me once," Marik said slowly and carefully.

Yale's eyes still narrowed warily, and Marik saw her pale hand clutch tightly to Auset's.. Marik shook his head and steered on.

"What I meant to say, Yareko-san, is that I would like to take your son back to earth." A gasp came from Yale's way but Auset held her hand firmly, nodding her head towards Marik and encouraging him to continue. "...Not permanently. I would just like to bring him back to earth until the time is right for him to properly return to the Kingdom of Osiris. His end and his journey here were not meant, nor was it natural. I caused it. I killed him. And to undo it, I killed myself and followed him here. Unfortunately, my deal with Anubis was not as…effective, as planned, but I decided to come to you in hopes that at least you would let me bring your son home."

Marik paused momentarily in his speech. He strangely felt like a dictator of sorts. Yes, a dictator pharaoh trying to negotiate with the enemy commander.

And Yale was certainly putting up a fight. Marik had not expected her to return his fire with one of her own.

"No. I won't agree," Yale said instantly. She stood up, clutching her shawl in her grasp. "I won't agree. Ryou must stay here. He is happy here. I won't let him go back to a world of loneliness and terror!"

"How will you know he will be lonely?" Marik countered back patiently. He watched Yale intently. Something was not right. "And how do you know he'll live a life of terror?"

Yale seemed to falter a bit, before she recovered and spat backfire of her own. "Because….you are there!"

Marik closed his eyes. Ouch. However, he was more worried on his mother's part; Auset seemed shocked and disappointed that Yale would say such a thing. Silently, Auset brought her gaze to her lap, and said nothing. Yale noticed the sudden change in atmosphere and immediately, her narrow eyes turned wide and round again, and her face fell in that of despair.

"Oh, Auset, I'm so sorry…" She fell to her knees and looked up at the other, who was avoiding her gaze. "Oh, Auset, please, I didn't meant to say that, I really didn't…" Futilely, Yale tried to get Auset to look at her, but no avail. More tears gathered in her brown eyes when she realized that she had truly hurt her friend, and she sorely regretted it. "Oh Auset, please don't be hurt! I'm sorry, I didn't mean a word of it, please…"

Auset simply looked away.

Marik watched this exchange with interest. Yes, there was something familiar with the way Yale spoke her fluent Japanese tongue, and there was something familiar about her slanted eyes. Slowly, Marik pieced these shards in his head, and slowly, he looked back up at the mirror in the corner.

He recalled the song he had heard on his way to Yale's isolated cave. He recalled the cave itself. He analyzed the smooth stalagmites and the broken stalactites.

Suddenly, Marik was certain that when Yale was speaking about 'loneliness and terror', she was not directing those words to him. He suddenly realized just who she was talking about, and it certainly was obvious now that Marik pieced everything together.

"You needn't worry, Yareko-san," Marik spoke up quietly. Yale paused in her tearful attempts to get Auset to look at her again. "Your son will be safe with me, and I know you know that. I will keep _both _your sons in check, and I suppose, I should now apologize for nearly causing death to both of them. It was unintentional."

Auset blinked and looked up at Marik quizzically. Marik shook his head discreetly and gave her a look. Auset knew that look and obeyed immediately, allowing Marik to do what he needed to do. Yale, however, was suspicious. She stood slowly.

"What do you mean by _both my sons_?" she asked in a hoarse, distant voice. Marik smirked. Right on the dot.

"You miss him, don't you?" Marik said quietly. He looked around the cave and uncrossed his hands, pointing to the hanging stones and the smoothed floor. "Look at this, this cave…I knew I had seen it somewhere. It's just like his. Of course, his is messier, and where your mirror stands is where his bed stands…" Marik brought his gaze away from the walls of the cave and back at Yale. "You resemble him greatly, Yareko-san. But you don't need to fear for Ryou's safety from him. I can take care of Ryou from him. And judging by Malik's presence, I think it's certain to say that your firstborn will never hurt Ryou again."

Auset looked confused, and couldn't help but speak. "Malik? Marik, what are you talking about?"

Marik instantly noted the distant longing in his mother's voice. He strode towards them and looked at the mirror, which was now blank. He granted his mother a small smile for her sake.

"Malik misses you too," he said quietly. "He doesn't say much about it, but he misses you. He has Isis, and Rishid. He thinks of you sometimes. Isis tells him stories about you. Rishid can't bear the memory of your death, so he says nothing. But Malik misses you greatly." He turned to Yale and looked her straight in the eye. "And so does Bakura."

Soft brown eyes shot wide open, and for a moment, Marik could see the fear clouding back up into Yale's eyes. Quickly she stood and backed her way into her mirrored corner, almost trying to shield it.

"What would you know about Bakura?" she demanded, though her voice came out waved and cracked.

Marik relentless kept his footing. "That song you were singing," Marik recalled, ignoring her question, "…I heard it once. I wasn't sure where, but I heard it somewhere. How did it go?"

Marik furrowed his brows, trying his best to remember. He looped an arm around Yale and gave the mirror a wave. Yale gasped and turned around, unintentionally touching its surface as her fingers swept bye.

A handsome image of a ruggish man came into view. Inside, Marik wryly thought that Yale was too biased on her son… Bakura wasn't _that _great looking.

His waves of spiked hair were pure white, cradling his cheeks and spilling onto his shoulders. His skin was tanned, kissed passionately by the Egyptian sun. A scar trickled down his right eye, and despite his menacing appearance, his narrowed brown eyes were bright with fun, and his smirkish grin was so cocky it was cute.

A soft, melodiously laughter echoed through the other half the mirror. In the next moment, Malik appeared from one side of the mirror, and wrapped his arms around Bakura's throat. Laughing, the two of them tumbled onto the floor and out of sight, though you could still hear their playfight laughs and snickers.

"And the song Amane was singing…" Marik recalled distantly. "…he sang it too, once, for us."

Yale lowered her head, her eyes welling with tears. Slowly, she raised her hands to touch the mirror's surface, her eyes brimming with tears that threatened to fall.

"He suffered through so much," she whispered, so quietly that Marik almost didn't catch it. "But he was good, he was a good boy, a good son, and wonderful thief…I thought I could trust him…I knew he went wrong but somewhere inside I know he's there…"

She stroked the mirror's surface as Bakura reappeared, grinning like an idiot and having Malik's kohl smudged on his face. Marik silently snorted. Apparently, play fighting wasn't _exactly _what they were doing when they fell under the mirror's gaze.

Soft tears finally rolled down Yale's soft cheeks. She gave a heartfelt sob and pressed her forehead against the mirror's clean surface, mumbling under her breath.

"_Hush now…my baby…be still now, don't cry…_

_Sleep as you're rocked by the stream…"_

She clenched her fists and bit her lip. More tears trickled down her cheek.

_"S-sleep and remember…my last …lullaby…"_

She opened her eyes and gently stroked Bakura's forehead. In the mist of his play fighting with Malik, his eyes grew deep, and his grin faded into a smile. For a moment, Bakura looked absolutely contented.

"_…so I'll be with you…when you dream…"_

The last word was cracked, and before long, Yale broke down into tears. She sank to her knees as she covered her face, sobbing mournfully over her firstborn son. Marik stood and did nothing as Auset finally recovered and gently patted Yale on her shoulder.

"Why do you cry over him?" Marik asked. "He's doing much better now. Malik and Ryou have been a great influence on him. If he knew it, he would've been an excellent brother for Ryou."

"Y-yes, but…" Yale gave a sob on her hands and turned towards Auset. "…Ryou…oh, my poor little boy…" Her face fell onto Auset's shoulder. "My little prince…my little prince hurt him…I tried to protect him, but Amane should've been…she should've…"

"Amane should've been the boy, and Ryou should've been the girl," Marik clarified. "That's it, wasn't it? You intended to give Ryou Amane's personality, so that he could live with being Bakura's reincarnated vessel. But instead, Ryou had been born with a girlish personality, and you blame yourself for it. That's it, isn't it…?"

Yale gave a muffled wail and clutched onto Auset desperately.

"I hadn't meant to!" she cried. "When I realized what Ryou was like when he was born, I was terrified! I knew Bakura would not tolerate such a vessel, so I tried to protect Ryou from Bakura whenever possible. But I failed! I failed my son! Instead of giving him a good life and forgetting the death of my firstborn, I caused him his loneliness! His pain! His suffering!"

Marik arched his eyebrow. "You did not. Bakura came into Ryou's life after you passed away. And Bakura had no knowledge what you were trying to do. You've watched him all this time, haven't you? Then you can see, whatever piece of Bakura's small, cold, black heart still is devoted to you! If he knew that Ryou had intentionally been born to help him, Bakura would have never caused Ryou his pain."

"Bakura lost his memories," Yale sobbed. "My little prince forgot his memories… I can't bear to see what he's like…what he was like before…after I passed on. He was…so cruel to Ryou…" Yale's eyes widened and filled with tears of guilt. "…Ryou…my poor angel…I hadn't meant…I only wanted to …" She broke down again and sobbed into Auset's shoulder. "…I just wanted to protect…"

"You wanted Ryou to be Bakura's vessel first," Auset whispered distantly. "It's alright, Yale. You missed Bakura, it's understandable."

"No…" Yale whispered. "No…It's my fault that Ryou's like this, that Ryou's so lonely…I tired to make him like Bakura, and I couldn't…I realized that after Amane was born. I got so afraid and I realized that…that I …"

She clutched Auset tightly, her shoulders shaking.

"Auset, what will I do?" she breathed. "Ryou will hate me when he realizes…that his life…that I…I…"

"I think," Marik said quietly. "That Ryou subconsciously knows that he was put on this earth for Bakura's vessel. Unfortunately for Ryou, Bakura beat that into him long ago. But it doesn't matter what his life intentionally was. He's happy the way he is now…with a brother, a sister, a father, and mother, and friends."

Auset looked up and stared at Marik fleetingly.

"What about a lover?" she asked softly.

Marik stared at his mother for a moment, before looking away. From the cave's entrance, he could see Ryou playing his violin in the distance with his father, and Amane dancing around him happily. Marik's face fell slowly into one of regret.

"…I don't think he'll be happy with one…"

For a moment, there was nothing to be heard, except for the soft sounds of Yale crying quietly. After a long while, Yale's little sobbing quietly drifted away, and finally, she wiped the sad tears from her cheeks.

"…Why did you come?" she whispered distantly. "Although I know you didn't mean to hurt him, you had no reason to come after him…all the way to the afterlife…"

At her question, Marik merely shrugged and harshly turned away. From the opening of the cave, he watched in the distance as Ryou and Amane continued to talk animatedly; the younger Bakura was beaming and squealing a majority of the time, and Ryou…that wonderfully soft smile on his face, so warm, so tender…Marik found himself yearning that he could sit next to Ryou right then and there, to enjoy that happy moment with him.

He was too busy gazing almost sadly at Ryou to notice that Yale had stood and had floated towards him. In her soft, fragile hands, she clutched at her shawl uncertainly, and watched her son and daughter over his shoulder.

"…Ryou was…very happy with you, you know," Yale breathed. Marik's closed his eyes and pretended to ignore her. "…You came here…because you were happy with him too…weren't you?"

When Marik didn't answer, Yale's shoulders sagged, and slowly, she stepped up next to him, watching Ryou and Amane side by side. Marik, being a head or so taller than her, looked positively dark and domineering next to the soft ethereal angel.

"I was watching him all his life, you realize," Yale whispered. "As Auset watches her son as well. But …Auset can live in the Kingdom freely, knowing that there are people to take care of her son…but I…" Her gaze drifted sadly to Ryou, and filled with tears. "…Ryou had no one. No friends, no sister, no mother and no father. He had no one to understand him, no one to help him. Throughout his whole life, he lived in such accepted and desolate misery…" Yale stopped and turned to Marik, her tears slowly disappearing. "…Until you came."

Sighing, Marik shook his head and stepped out of the cave. Auset watched as Marik did not bothered to even turn back to face Yale as he spoke. When he did, his voice was low and strained, as though he was holding something difficult to say.

"…Regardless of your permission or not," Marik said lowly, "…I am here for Ryou, you realize. No matter what you've seen from this Kingdom, there are aspects of Ryou life that I doubt you can truly comprehend…the Shadows that thrive on his soul, the darkness that lurks in his insecurities…the games he was forced to endure in so many ways. I doubt you can understand all that."

Raising his head, Marik turned briefly, just to look at Yale straight in the eye. Doe-brown eyes met harsh amethyst.

"…I will ask Ryou," Marik said stonily. "What happened on earth between Ryou and myself is of no concern to you. And I…I will only take him back if it his own choice for his own happiness…and if he chooses to stay, I will let him." Turning back to the meadow, Marik gave the faintest of sighs. "…It's all I can give him before I go."

Shaking his head, Marik re-straightened his cloak and his sarong, set his armbands and adjusted his collar. Taking a deep breath, Marik gave Auset and Yale one final last 'look', and descended down the hill. Yale watched in what seemed to be faintly puzzled awe.

"…He does love him, doesn't he?" Yale asked Auset. Smiling, Auset swept up to her friend, and nodded.

"Hmn. He has his bad parts, but he's good at heart." For once, Yale broke into a smile.

"…Hm. Yes," she breathed softly. She looked towards Auset, who was next to her right. "…I am happy…that Ryou fell in love with him."

* * *

Since I was working on this chapter and it was so far twenty two pages with still a heck of a dialogue to go through, I decided to update now with nineteen chapters and let viewers a sneak peek of the original Chapter Thirty-One. See? Despite how badly things ended, things are perking up!

I know that it looks like this fic has no ending, but (I'm not sure if this is good or bad) it does have a plot ( I know, a really long one that seems pointless and totally surreal) and this story is most likely going to end in another seven to ten more chapters, depending on how long the chapters would be. I'm trying to cut it at a even forty, but we're halfway through plot already, and the rest of the story can easily be summed up in the next seven chapters…ish.

Please read and review! I enjoyed the previous reviews immensely and I hope that this quick update satisfied most of the readers out there! I hope just adding the mothers here didn't look too random; but I did foreshadow it before and they do partially act as a minor key role towards the end of this story. As much as this story surrounds Marik and Ryou, we can't forget the other two who are also in a bit of agony on their own…Malik and Bakura, and what will they do when they all remember that this is just a memory game?

READ AND REVIEW PLEASE!

-AL


	32. The First Reunion Part II

Chapter Thirty Two: The Proposal

Laughing, Ryou and Amane kept on running from tree to tree, playing a little version of tag. On the ground laid Amane's mathematics textbook (apparently they also had school in the Kingdom of Osiris; Amane had a quill to write with), but it was long forgotten as Ryou and Amane kept on jumping from tree to tree back and forth.

As Marik approached, he stood and took the time to watch this partially amusing scene. Giggling, Ryou was too busy trying to hide behind a tree to notice Marik's presence.

"…Gotcha!" Ryou exclaimed, suddenly tagging his younger sister who had been darting underneath a bush. Laughing, Amane pulled herself out of the bush and ran after him, who was beginning to dodge behind and around another tree. In his excitement, Ryou was running backwards and accidentally tripped open Amane's textbook.

"Whoops!"

Though laughing, Ryou went flying, but unfortunately, he went flying right into Marik.

As though by instinct, Marik immediately bent his knees and curved his arms to fit Ryou's small body against him, and sufficiently held the boy when Ryou landed into his arms. Surprised, Ryou blinked; someone was holding him up. And strangely, the arms felt very familiar…

Before him, Amane gave a gasp, and her eyes widened accusingly at the man holding Ryou. Blinking in confusion, Ryou quickly stood and turned, about to apologize, when he himself was also struck with silence, and he merely stood there, gazing up at the man he'd never thought he would see again.

As though he normally caught Ryou in meadows, Marik merely bent down and picked up Amane's bent textbook. Looking at it idly from side to side, he arched one eyebrow coolly at Amane.

"…This is yours, I believe."

Eyes narrowing, Amane darted forwards to snatch the book away. Immediately, her hand went to grip Ryou's.

"Come on, Nii-san…"

"I believe," Marik cut in loudly, as he impeded her hand and grabbed Ryou's first, "…that you have some studying to do, Amane?"

Narrowing her eyes further, Amane angrily looked from Marik to Ryou, who was still trying to sink all of this in. Though Marik normally would have snapped at the girl to leave, decided to take his patience and waited for her to cool down. Despite Ryou's initial personality, Marik still suspected that there was some very distinctive Yami-Bakura genes in the family.

"You remind me very highly of your brother," Marik commented idly, as Amane's short hair began to curl around her cheeks akin to someone else that Marik knew. "Now be a good girl and run along, hm? I swear I will not harm your brother."

Amane glared at him. "…Fat chance I'll take your word," she snapped at him. The snap finally brought Ryou out of his trance.

"Amane," Ryou reprimanded softly. He quickly slid his hand out of Marik's and turned to his younger sister. "…Amane…could you please…just give us a moment? I swear, if anything happens, I'll call for you, hm?"

Though she looked ready to argue at first, Amane visibly decided to control herself. Glaring one last time at Marik, she grabbed her book and huffed away to the nearest tree, which was about three meters away from the couple. Like a stubborn child, she sat against the trunk and slapped her book onto her lap, eyeing Marik like a small hawk.

Marik snorted and reached up to stroke Ryou's hair. "…Interesting sister you have," he commented. "I can see why you adore her so much. A lot of fire in her."

At the touch, Ryou immediately drew away. Unable to suddenly look at Marik, Ryou merely eyed the floor, suddenly feeling very nervous and sad.

_"…Why…"_ He took a deep breath and brought his hands to himself, in case Marik decided to hold them again. "…Why did you come?"

Snorting, Marik reached over to grab one of Ryou's wrists, and pulled him around.

"Why am I here?" Marik repeated dryly. "Well, I suppose it's kind of obvious, isn't it? But perhaps you should specify your question more…are you surprised that I am here with you, or here in the _Kingdom of Osiris_, or here because I'm just dead?"

Gasping, Ryou looked up at Marik with uneasiness. "You…you're dead?" Ryou exclaimed incredulously. "But you…you can't be…you…when did you…"

Hushing Ryou sufficiently with a finger, Marik slowly cupped Ryou's cheeks and began to brush away Ryou's hair. Confused, Ryou tried to take all this in, when he noticed the faint, glistening transparent chains that were hung from Marik's wrists. Gasping, Ryou pulled back and hastily grabbed the chains, his fingers shaking.

"M-Marik…" he breathed. "You…why are you…what…"

Sighing, Marik pulled the chains out of Ryou's grip, and shrugged. "A mere price to pay to come and ask you a favor…I suppose." He eyed Ryou flatly. "…Should I be surprised that you are even concerned with the idea that I might be imprisoned? From any normal human being, you should be glad at the idea of me being held in captivity."

A look of hurt flittered across Ryou's face. "…I…of course I'd never be happy to see you like this," Ryou whispered. "Why would I?"

A silence drifted between them, with Marik merely eyeing him. Breaking the silence with a sigh, Marik stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"…You broke your promise, you know," Marik said harshly, glaring at Ryou. Ryou blinked in confusion. "…You do realize that, don't you?"

Ryou blinked again. "My…my promise?" he repeated. "Which promise…?"

A look of hurt flittered over Marik's expression briefly, but it was gone in an instant and replaced with his usual cold and hard glare. "…You don't even remember your last days on earth, do you?"

Looking helpless, Ryou didn't dare to say no, but he knew it was the truth. The past few weeks had been a blur, full of nightmares and dreams and memories and reality all merged into one. Apologetically, he reached out to touch Marik's hand in his pocket, but Marik drew away harshly.

"…You don't remember," Marik stated in a monotone voice. "…You don't remember anything, do you? Nothing. Not the sunset, not the medicine, not the doll, not the times we talked, not the moments we spent together…" Marik looked up and glared at Ryou, feeling almost childish. "…Not even your promise."

At this, Ryou's shoulders sagged helplessly. Unsure as to what to do, he slowly reached out towards Marik, but paused when Marik's glare intensified. A look of fear briefly flickered over Ryou's face and he drew his hand back, looking suddenly frightened and unsure.

"…I'm sorry," Ryou whispered. "…I really don't remember much…I really don't."

"You said you'd live," Marik shot shortly. "You promised me you'd live through it. You told me you would." Marik once again felt very childish. "You said you'd live. When I brought you outside when Isis said you weren't allowed to. Do you at least remember that?"

Blinking, Ryou tried his best to remember, and slowly, his memories dawned onto him. Feeling a guilty knot tying up in his insides.

"…Why though?" Ryou suddenly asked. "Why would you…care that I kept that promise?"

A briefest flicker of an emotion that seemed akin to hurt flashed across Marik's eyes, but it was gone again the moment Ryou caught it. "Why would I care?" Marik repeated slowly. "Why would I care? Why do you think I cared when I came back? Why do you think I cared when I saved you from the dungeon and brought you home? Why do you think I cared when I got Isis to heal you, when I brought you outside to watch the sunset, when I promised I'd bring you to the festival and when I gave you back your dolls? Why would you even _ask_ me that?!"

Despite himself, Marik knew full well why Ryou would ever ask him that question.

It seemed that Ryou knew too, because his eyes were slowly filling with a clouded look of remorse and guilt. Drifting his gaze away from Marik's, Ryou shifted uncomfortably, his fingers leaving the glowing transparent chains.

"…But, to die?" Ryou breathed sadly. He looked up but did not meet Marik's gaze. "I mean…I…I know I promised…I tried, I really did, but…" Slowly, his eyes turned and rose to meet Marik's. "But you…didn't have to _die_ for me, Marik…you could've…just…" At this, Ryou dropped his eyes. "You could've just…let me go…"

"Do you want me to?" Marik demanded. "Would you want me to just let you go? After you fought so hard for me to stay?"

As though he had hit a nerve, Ryou's eyes began to fill with tears. "Of course not," Ryou whispered. "But…surely I …wasn't of _that_ much importance to you, was I?"

Silence followed. While Ryou uncomfortably was looking away, Marik merely stood there, still as stone. Ouch. What a slap in the face.

"…So the truth comes out now," Marik said monotonously, "…doesn't it?"

Blinking, Ryou looked up quizzically, not exactly sure what Marik was meaning. The darker one's eyes fell into a bitter gaze, and suddenly, Marik turned his head to the side roughly, not even wanting to look into Ryou's general direction. The amethyst eyes were clouding with an emotion that Ryou couldn't detect: it could have ranged anywhere from bitterness to sadness to regret or to hatred, and Ryou still couldn't tell.

By his sides, Marik's hands clenched and unclenched.

"…I'm here, aren't I?"

Sighing, Marik unclenched his hands and flexed his fingers, trying to compose himself. Why was he even surprise with Ryou's response? He had deserved it, after all…

Sighing, Marik raised his head and looked to the side, idly gazing at the river lapping down the hills.

"I'm here," Marik repeated woodenly, as though far away. "I took care of you. I came back as soon as I could. I got you medicine, and I fed you, I clothed you, I bathed you and I tended to your wounds…"

A sigh once again left Marik's lips. Feeling his anger ebbing away, Marik merely took into to shrinking into himself bitterly, lowering his gaze to the grass.

"…I held you too," Marik mumbled quietly. "Even though it wasn't a very nice way of holding…you were still crying…and sometimes I hit you still…but…" Marik bit his lip and took a deep breath, as though what he had been saying was difficult to continue. "I held you too…and I held your hand when you needed me, I touched your hair and stroked your cheek when you cried. I held you when you were screaming nonsense, when you curled up and you were shaking. I…"

Sighing again, Marik harshly turned away from Ryou, lowering his head and trying to stop those memories from flowing again. In the distance, he heard Ryou slowly step up behind him, almost timidly.

"…I talked to you," Marik repeated distantly. "I asked you…what you would like to see…I tried my best to bring you everything you wanted…" Dropping his head, he lowered his voice so that only Ryou could hear. "…I tried my best…I _loved_ you."

For a while, all Ryou could do was just stand there, gazing at Marik in a mixture of surprise and guilt. He hesitantly took a step forward, his hand outreached.

"I-"

But before Ryou could finish his sentence, Marik turned around and grabbed his wrists. Gasping in surprise, Ryou fought back, but only briefly. He stopped when he realize Marik wasn't meaning to do harm …on the contrary, the taller one had pulled Ryou rather close.

"I don't even really know why I'm so drawn to you," Marik breathed harshly. His hand slowly slid up to possessively press Ryou against him. "I didn't even really know when we first met. At first it was just fun, I was just automatically drawn to you, but at the time, I just thought it was because I was merely looking for someone to torment…"

Here, Marik paused, his hand dropping slightly. Ryou held his breath.

"…But then things happened," Marik said hollowly. "I could feel something. Something different. You. You being so unselfish, so gentle, and so tolerating…" Here, the darker one sighed. "Everything that I am not, and what I've never known…"

Ryou's eyes widened.

_If I never knew you…_

"Imagine," Marik continued in his hollow voice. "For me to continue life like this. Like the darkness that I am, like the Shadows that torment everyone's soul…Imagine walking endlessly with no purpose in life, no understanding of your meaning on earth…to hate it when others have the happiness you think you deserve…to seek vengeance against it when it is _denied…_"

Here, Marik abruptly dropped his protective hold, but he did not turn away from Ryou. Nor did Ryou make any move to shift away from his place at Marik's chest.

"Remember we had that talk? About you being too unselfish for your own good?"

Ryou nodded, but didn't look up. His hands unconsciously came to grip Marik's shirt.

Marik continued, but his voice suddenly became quieter, losing its wooden echo.

"I know you," Marik mumbled. "Even though I don't show it. You're too kind for your own good. Sometimes, I don't even know what you see in me, and I can't help but wonder if it's just your naïve little heart feeling sorry for me."

At this, Ryou raised his head to protest, but Marik plowed on, ignoring Ryou's attempt. His amethyst eyes shifted over to the near-transparent chains that gripped his wrists in their magically iron shackles.

"This deal…" Marik fleetingly gazed at the chains around his wrists. "…You decide why I did it. Why I came after you. The fact is, I shouldn't be in The Kingdom of Osiris. I should be in the jaws of Ammut, dying and dying over again. This…this is only temporary."

Finally, Marik took a step back, and slowly lowered his gaze into Ryou's. Dreading the worse, Ryou instinctively followed, but Marik kept him at an arm's distance.

"I came here to ask you to come back to Earth with me," Marik said finally. "And if this were any other day or time, I would have just taken you forcefully, and regret it later should you hate me for it. But now…" The darker one shifted his eyes over the fields, to where Amane was scowling under her tree, and the figure of Yale at the mouth of the cave. "…I changed my mind."

He turned to Ryou again. "I want you to be happy," Marik said firmly, though his voice was low. "And this time, I'm asking you to be selfish." He took a step towards Ryou again. "What is it that _you_ want most? What is it that makes _you _happy? Forget about Amane, about your mother, and most of all…"

Finally, Marik grasped Ryou's hand.

"Forget about me."

Speechless, Ryou could only widen his eyes in shock. Behind dark brown eyes revealed an emotion that radiated pleading, begging. _Don't make me make that decision…_

Lowering his head, Marik took a moment, before snorting softly.

"You know…" He laughed bitterly again. "…I did all this to make you happy, you know? I did everything I could in my power to make you happy. I tried to take care of you, I tried to make you comfortable, I tried to take you to see that festival and I tried to take you to see the sunset. But…despite all the happiness I tried to give…"

Amethyst eyes rose. Ryou was shocked to see them a lavender shade once more, except this time, they were filled with an emotion Ryou had never seen before.

Regret.

A tanned hand reached out, and gently touched Ryou's cheek. For a fleeting moment, Ryou felt like he was back on the blimp again, with an understanding Marik, who had never came across the emotion called Love. A Marik that had not understood the concept, but had trusted it like a small child after wandering in the dark.

Ryou didn't even remember closing his eyes. He was only drawn back to reality when he felt soft lips drift upon his.

"…You still left."

A hand slithered up Ryou's head, bringing him forward into the kiss. Though he wanted to, for some reason, Ryou couldn't bear to open his eyes. Perhaps deep in his heart, he believed that if he didn't look, he wouldn't have to see the dawning reality of it all…the decision he'd have to make…the Marik before him…

In the distance, he heard Marik's voice: soft, sad…guilty.

"I did everything I could to make it up to you…to make you happy. To make you forget all the sadness and pain I caused you." The hand stroked Ryou's cheek again. "But I couldn't do it. I couldn't bring myself to convince you that there were happy things in life that I could give you, that I'd be willing to give you. Without hesitation." The hand dropped. "As much as I could, I couldn't say the words…even though I could offer you my love…" The hand left Ryou's vicinity entirely. "…I didn't think you'd accept it."

Here, Ryou's eyes shot open. Immediately he leaped forward at Marik, but Marik stopped him.

"At least if you stay here," Marik looked back at Amane, "at least I know …that even if you do reject the happiness I can offer… at least…" Marik's eyes closed, and a bitter, sad smile crept across his face.

"…At least, I still gave you the chance to be happy."

Looking up with difficulty, Marik tried to smile.

"You can come back to me at sunset." The dark one turned away. "I'll be waiting here. Spare me no mercy, Ryou."

* * *

A/N:

OK. THAT was really short. But I thought it was a good place to end it off; making the Kingdom of Osiris scene a special trilogy chapter thing. The beginning, the middle, and the end, you know?

Sorry for the lack of updates. Marik had to be redone at least three times in the past so many attempts at this chapter. Happy Valentine's day!

Please read and review!!

-AL


	33. The First Reunion Part III

Chapter Thirty-Three: The First Reunion, Part III

Quite dumbstruck, Ryou stood there, watching speechlessly as Marik slowly disappeared in the distance. When all was gone and silent, Ryou suddenly came alive, and he groaned, holding his head in his hands.

"This can't be happening," he mumbled.

* * *

From a distant away, the two motherly figures were watching as the distant figure of Ryou began to walk around helplessly, unsure what to do. Auset smiled fondly and shook her head, while Yale merely continued to look blankly on.

"You know what decision he will make, don't you?" Auset asked quietly.

Yale – Yareko – sighed. She closed her eyes and raised a slim hand to her forehead, nursing an apparent headache.

"I do," she admitted softly. She opened her eyes again and gazed softly on her son. "And I will admire – and love him – for it."

Auset nodded sincerely. "Would you see him before he -?"

Yareko shook her head. She wrapped her shawl around her, protectively, as though trying to defend herself against her own words.

"No," she replied softly. "No. He is happier the way he is this way." She closed her eyes briefly, before turning them to Auset. Her deep brown eyes shimmered with faint tears, but her face was aglow with happiness.

"And that's all I could ever hope for him to be."

* * *

Meanwhile, Ryou had given up walking around, and had sat down at the base of the tree next to the river. Taking this as an opportune time, his sister slowly walked out of the nearby bushes, sitting down next to him.

"Hey," she said, trying to cheer him up. "I heard what happened. How are you holding up?"

Ryou grimaced. "Not good," he admitted. He buried his head in his hands, clutching a little at his hair. "…I don't know what to think."

At first, it seemed like Amane was ready to assure Ryou what to think, but then she paused. She watched him carefully, looking so discomforted. Her expression faded a little into something unreadable and almost …sad.

"…You do love him, don't you?" Amane asked quietly.

Unable to answer, Ryou merely sighed, shuffling his feet in the grass.

Amane lowered her eyes.

"And he loves you back…"

Here, Ryou paused, stiffening just a little. His little sister did not seem to notice, or if she had, chose not to. She continued looking at the ground too, in her own train of thought.

"To come all the way up here... " She paused and looked a little discomforted. "…to have been able to stay here this long…"

Ryou blinked, not entirely sure as to why his sister was so concerned about how long Marik had been up in this -…strange afterlife.

"Er-…?"

Amane broke out of her trance, raising her head. Her blue eyes, quite like her father's, widened at little at him, surprised, as though seeing him for the first time. Ryou blinked again, before furrowing his eyebrows in the faintest of confusion.

"Er…Are you alright?"

Amane merely blinked back at him, as though not entirely understanding what he had been asking. Suddenly she seemed to understand, and brightened.

"Oh yes-…I'm fine," she assured. She smiled crookedly and turned to Ryou.

"Listen." Her smile faded, and she turned serious. "Nii-san, do as you wish, alright? Don't even consider me and Okaa-san in your decision. We'd want you to be happy. You wouldn't like it here anyway." She shrugged. "It's pretty weird around here sometimes."

Ryou blinked, interested. "What do you mean?"

Amane looked the opposite of her brother, totally bored. "Well, I mean – this is the afterlife, right? Pretty magical, you think. But haven't you noticed things are pretty weird around here?"

Ryou made a bit of a face. "…I ..guess so," he said, not really wanting to admit he hadn't really noticed much of his surroundings as of late.

Amane shook her head. "It's kind of weird sometimes here, you know? Like - …I mean, do you remember dying at all?"

Ryou's insides clenched. Flashes of oily yellow light and blurred tanned skin and bright amethyst eyes flashed briefly in his head. But he could not honestly remember anything in particular.

"…No," he said tentatively.

Amane nodded. "Nor do I," she said. "You think you would, but you don't. I only remember blue – just because that was the color of the car that hit us – but other than that -…" Here, Amane looked a little sad. "…I don't remember anything of how I died."

Ryou's insides, already clenched, twisted briefly. He began to feel sad too, remembering his own feelings when he found that his sister had died.

Amane sighed and shrugged out of her reminiscence. "Well – I remember other things," she said, trying to not get depressed about her death. "I mean…I remember home, and Okaa-san, and you. But I guess things are weird here because everyone has their own idea of happiness - …Okaa-san and I aren't happy if we don't remember you, but some people totally forget what their life was like back on earth, because it was too sad. They're happier not remembering."

Hearing this, Ryou felt much more disheartened. So he could not remember how he died because he wasn't happy being with Marik? Was that it?

No, Ryou thought… That wasn't possible. He remembered Marik. But he just didn't remember dying.

"Amane?"

His little sister looked up at him quizzically. Ryou looked down at the ground.

"…When I died…were you watching?"

She nodded. "Yeah," she said, smiling a little. "We were waiting for you to come."

Ryou nodded, not really listening. "…When I died…did I look happy?" he asked.

Amane thought about it. "I guess so," she said slowly. "You two were watching the sun set. But I think you guys almost missed it. But you looked happy. You seemed happy. Why?"

Heart sinking, Ryou looked away. He couldn't reply.

Because he could not remember sunsets at all.

Amane watched him a little. "Hey, it's okay," she said, rubbing his arm. "Just…don't think too much about me or Okaa-san when you go and tell Marik what you want. We'll be…" Here she faltered, but tried to recover. "We'll be alright."

Ryou looked uncomfortable. "That's…that's not just it though," he tried to explain weakly. "It's just - …" He trailed away, unsure of how he was feeling. Lost? Yes. Confused? Yes. But why was he not agonizing over Marik's proposal -…torn between the two that he loved so much? Why could he not remember even what he normally considered happy moments with Marik?

Amane seemed to notice her brother's distress, and wisely stood up. She gave him a soft – if not sad – smile.

"Nii-san," she said softly, "don't worry. Everything will be alright. As long as you're happy – and maybe you'll think of Okaa-san and me sometimes…everything will be fine."

She bent down and gave him a tight hug.

"This is your decision to make," she said, her voice wavering on the brink of emotions. "I'll leave you alone to decide it."

And before Ryou could protest, Amane stood up and left abruptly, sniffing once before she disappeared behind the hills.

* * *

Ryou watched his sister leave with a sense of disappointment. He had not been able to tell her all of his feelings – his feelings for Marik, his need to be here, and most of all – his strange detachment, his strange distant confusion for the world he was now in. Ever since he had arrived, he had not taken a single notice of the world around him – or realized that this was officially the afterlife. He had been so preoccupied with the idea of being reunited that now, having being confronted about what he felt about the new world, he had realized that deep down, something either did not want to know what this new world was, or somehow, already knew.

_This is the afterlife,_ Ryou repeated in his head, slowly. _But if this is the afterlife…how come I feel so … strange?_

Feeling the need to rest, Ryou sat down next to a tall tree. The ground before him seemed to waver, but he took it as a sign of his new feelings of confusion and distress. He folded his arms on his knees and buried his face in them.

_How come I don't remember anything…?_

Alright, admittedly, he did remember the days back on earth. But the memories were all disjointed, all blurry and scattered. They whirled by and they didn't, they jumped about and they wouldn't, they would sometimes come at full speed and sometimes never come to recognition at all.

Ryou sighed.

_Amane was right, this is all so weird…_

A little while later, when the sun was at its highest point, Ryou was still at square one, having not figured out what he was going to do. It was then when someone slowly walked towards him, and Ryou caught sight of him.

"Dad," Ryou quickly scrambled up, but nearly fell over in his clumsiness. "…Dad…?"

The other man raised his hand in a gesture of peace, but his smile was awkward and shy. Blue eyes crinkled the same way Ryou's died when he was uncertain under gray-blue bangs. His left hand held a small case, but he seemed to be hiding it behind his back.

"It's okay," James said, his voice quiet. "Amane told me you were – er…Amane said something about you – needing maybe some…?" Sighing, James rubbed the back of his head. "…Would you mind if I sat with you?" he asked finally, cheeks red.

Ryou blinked, having never really talked this much to his father before. He slowly sat back down on the grass.

"…Sure," Ryou tried to smile assuringly, having actually never had much father-son time with his father. For a moment, Ryou's aching heart felt something lighten. Even though his father had been away often, Ryou had still missed his father regardless.

James Bakura's smile was genuine, and he sat down next to Ryou. He put the long, wooden case before them on the grass.

"So…uh…" James tried to smile more confidently. "How's it going?"

Ryou looked up at his father. "How's what going?"

James rubbed the back of his neck. "Er-…well…you know with…what's his name…?"

Ryou's heart sank again. "…Marik?"

James nodded. "Yeah, that's it."

Sighing, Ryou looked away, hiding his face in his knees, which he had brought up to his chest.

"I…didn't really want to think about it," Ryou admitted shamefully. He closed his eyes, feeling his heart sink. Was he really so miserably selfish to not even consider Marik's proposal?

The man next to him shifted awkwardly. James Bakura had always been a bit of a shy man. And he had always never been very talented with speaking, even if it was to his son.

"…W-ell," the older one tried to elongate the filler in hopes of not screwing up his next few words, "…It's understandable, I guess, right? I mean…" James looked uncomfortable, but more so with his speech than what he was going to say. "…It hurts, doesn't it?"

Sniffing once, Ryou raised his head, looking puzzled through sad eyes at the man sitting next to him. James immediately did not look at his son and tried to focus at the grass next to him.

"I mean - …it's not a bad feeling, it comes with what's going on, so you don't have to feel bad," James continued, stumbling a little. "And I know it…hurts -…but if it hurts, doesn't that mean that -…doesn't that usually mean that -…something…" James paused, looking as though he was carefully choosing his words, "…That there is something still _there_? Something still inside? Something that maybe he- er…erm, you know, Merrick or what's his name-…" James looked increasingly upset at himself. "Well, just something inside that – both you and him – that you both share. There's still something there – and…maybe it doesn't have to hurt anymore."

Blinking, Ryou stared at his father, slowly taking in the words. His eyes blinked a few more times, pondering.

"But then…why don't I want to -…?" Ryou didn't want to finish his own sentence.

"Maybe you don't want to think about it, because you already know the answer," James said gently.

Blinking, Ryou looked up at his father with wide eyes, having not expected the answer. Seeing a more positive response from his son, James smiled a little, looking a little more confident.

"What you know in here," James said, gesturing to his chest, "is usually the best thing about yourself that you can trust. Even where you are now…are you feeling funny in this 'kingdom'?"

Ryou shifted awkwardly, a movement similar to his father's. "…Yes," he admitted.

James' smile was a wavering one. "And- ..forgive me for asking, -…but a lot of strange things has happened to you in your life, hasn't there? Weird voices - …your friends going into comas…"

Ryou winced. James caught immediately onto his mistake and flushed, looking once more, crestfallenly humble.

"S-sorry, I – I didn't mean…"

"No," Ryou hurried to assure his father. "…No, it's alright," Ryou said, more quietly.

Still looking displeased with himself, James continued. "Well – In general," he said, not looking into Ryou's eyes, "I know I haven't really – well, watched out for you a lot but -…weird things do happen to you, don't they? I heard about the funny things that happened during the dueling tournament in Battle City…and well -…" James sighed, looking lost for words. "How can you tell that this -..this new place - ..is any different from what you were experiencing -…before?"

There was a quiet, thoughtful silence, during which Ryou mulled over his father's words. He crinkled his brows a bit in thought, then slowly reached out a hand to the air.

"You mean – …this -…?"

Smoothly but slowly, his father's hand came from the side, and gently pushed Ryou's hand down. The air where Ryou touch flickered briefly, but had he not been watching carefully, Ryou would've missed it.

Ryou's eyes grew wide as he stared at where the air had momentarily shimmered. He then turned to his father.

"You mean- " Ryou whispered, almost afraid to say it, " – this place isn't –r-…?"

His father shook his head. A mere smile passed on the elder's face at him, though a bit sadly.

"There's something like magic in this world," James Bakura said solemnly. "I knew that the moment I touched the Ring and gave it to you for your birthday. I'm only sorry I was too much of a coward to have prevented you from its course of fate. But I too…" Here, James Bakura's face grew gray, and he looked away.

"I misled myself – kept on telling me nothing was wrong with you, even though I knew it was. I kept on pretending you'd be fine, so I wouldn't have to get close enough to lose you as well…it was my mistake. If I haven't been much of a father to you, at least maybe I can give you the opportunity to learn from my mistake too."

Ryou's eyes grew wider, and they began to feel hot, stinging at the edges. He wanted to say something, something to ease his father, but nothing came to mind, and Ryou looked away from his father and at the grass before them, determined to not let the tears fall. Absently, he tried to touch the green grass before him, feel the soft blades between his slim, white fingers, but to his dismay – and strange acceptance – he could feel nothing.

"Not everything is always what it seems," James said quietly. "You can't always rely on what you see around you. Trust whatever's inside, and never let it go."

Slowly, Ryou nodded. He looked away from his father, repeating the words over and over again.

"Never let it go…"

James smiled. He gave his son a pat on the shoulder.

"Yeah," James' smile turned faint. "Don't let it go. Ever. Special things…they don't always come every 3,000 years."

Surprised, Ryou looked up at his father, and for the first time in a while, smiled a little. "…You knew…?"

James, though a little reluctantly, nodded.

"The vendor who sold it to me told me it was 3,000 years old," James said quietly. "I didn't know what it was then, but like I said – I always knew it was something weird. I just was too much of a coward to do anything about it." He looked up at his son through hesitant bangs. "…Sorry," he mumbled.

Shaking his head, Ryou's smile grew a little. "No," he said sincerely. "No, it's fine…Dad. It's really fine."

The light in James Bakura's eyes came back, all alit with energy and joy. Seeing his father finally able to look at him without wincing, Ryou smiled too, mirroring his father's expressions.

"Listen," James said, more confidently and seriously now. "I have something I'd like to show you." He reached towards the case, that throughout the whole conversation, Ryou had forgotten. When James opened it, Ryou's heart jumped with glee.

"Oh, Dad, it's beautiful," Ryou said.

Before him, in the case, laid an elegantly carved violin. Ryou was awed at the flawless gloss of the deep bottle-amber color, a dark, handsome mahogany. The strings were glinting in all their silver glory in the sun.

James smiled widely, seeming very proud that his son was so impressed by the violin. "I made it."

Ryou turned to his father. "You _made_ it?" Ryou repeated, awed.

James nodded proudly. "Yes…I used to carve a lot of things in my spare time," his father explained. "Do you remember the door in your nursery as a child?"

Ryou tried his best to, but he could only recall the squiggly images that perhaps he had seen possibly once on his soul room door. He told his father he couldn't remember it, having not been so sure what door his father was referring to.

His father seemed a little disappointed, but he continued on strong. "Oh well," James said off-handedly. "The point is…" He caressed the violin. "…This violin was supposed to be for you…for your graduation present. I made his violin whenever I was away, when it hurt too much to think of your mother, your sister, and you." He gently picked it up. "It's probably in our old house in England now - …I think I kept it in the attic, in case our house was burglarized in our absence." He positioned it under his chin and raised the bow. "Would you like to hear it?"

Heart lifting considerably, Ryou nodded his head. James grinned toothily, a rare occurrence if there ever was one, and pressed his fingers on the strings.

"Sorry I wasn't there for your grad, Ryou."

Ryou smiled, shaking his head. "It's okay, Dad."

James nodded, and raised the bow. Ryou waited in anticipation.

The bow slid across the strings.

* * *

By the time they had finished, the sun was already beginning to set. His father stood and put the violin away, and Ryou remained as he was, staring and thinking, replaying the melodies in his head.

"You going to go now, Ryou?" James asked.

Without looking at his father, Ryou nodded. "…Yeah."

James nodded understandingly. "All the luck to you then," his father said sincerely.

Ryou nodded a little and slowly got up. "Thanks…Dad," he said.

James shook his head. "No problem," he said weakly, his cheeks turning a little red.

In the distance, Ryou watched the sun slowly turn orange. His father snapped the case of the violin shut.

"You better go," his father said quietly.

Nodding his head, Ryou took a deep breath. He turned to his father.

"…Thanks, Dad."

A hug seemed to want to hang in the air, but both father and son were too shy to make the first move. Finally James conceded and reached out to give his son the quickest and most awkwardest of hugs.

"Tell Merrick I said hi."

Ryou broke into a smile and gave his father a small hug in return, before they broke apart. "I will."

James nodded slowly, looking a little grave. "Do you want to see your mother or Amane before you go?"

Lowering his head, Ryou closed his eyes sadly.

"…No," he whispered. He tried to smile. "Just…tell them I love them…is that okay?"

James nodded somberly. "I will."

In those last final moments, Ryou and his father merely stood there, neither one willing to go first. Finally Ryou closed his eyes and willed himself to leave, disappearing into the grasses of the hill.

James watched as his son leave, finally understanding how his seven-year-old son must have felt when he watched his father leave the house and shut the door.

* * *

He made his way through the tall grass. He tried his best not to think.

_This is it…_Ryou took a deep breath, closing his eyes. _Is this…is this what I really want?_

He stumbled a few times down the hill, before collapsing to his knees. His mind throbbed, his body ached.

_What I really want…_

And then that's when he saw it.

In the distance where the river was, where the sun was setting. The lone, dark figure next to a branching, black tree.

The figure turned, and Ryou sucked in a breath, seeing those sharp, amethyst eyes once more.

Time stopped temporarily.

He slowly got up, never breaking his gaze with the distant, dark figure near the trickling river, against the dying sun. The wind blew in distant puffs, the only sound audible through the tall grass and the strange silence. Amethyst eyes did not blink, holding a solemn deepness within them, as though only they could see something sacred, something precious that might flutter away from their very hands.

Ryou smiled.

He began to walk through the waving grass, bowing at him as he shimmered down the too-perfect hills, feeling the crumbling of the too-perfect dirt under his feet. The solemn figure in the distance raised his amethyst eyes in those of puzzlement – in the gold-orange sunlight, they appeared a deep, luscious lavender.

The dirt exhaled in puffs as Ryou's feet picked up speed. The ground beneath began thumping in rhythm, the grass swaying in tune as Ryou's legs gained faster and faster towards the tall shadow next to the tree.

_Trust whatever's inside,_ Ryou whispered in his head. _Whatever you feel, whatever you don't know, or you don't have to know._

His legs began to jog. The bleak horizon began to grow darker and darker.

Ryou smiled, and broke into a run.

_My father was wrong,_ Ryou smiled to himself. _It wasn't whatever inside me I trusted. There was never any need to trust whatever was inside me._

_But him…_

And there, Ryou's smile grew into a pure, beautiful beam. The confusion on the darker one's face revealed itself, flickering in the awkward motion of turning from the tree, his arms sort-of outward, uncertainly offering their entrance.

_I saw something inside him. _

Ryou's heart seemed to lift. He waved a little to catch Marik's attention, guaranteeing that spot that Marik so unsurely offered.

_And he saw something inside me._

And, without further ado, Ryou launched himself at Marik, just as the sun disappeared into the dark, thick waters.

The next few moments happened in disjointed memory. A strong, firm chest, beautifully sculpted, pressed hard against Ryou's. A flicker of cloak as there was a bit of a stumble back – with its cotton texture against Ryou's cheeks – the scent of dry, desert flowers flickered past Ryou's nose, sinking in him, caressing him. Automatic instincts of either protection or defense, but Ryou determinedly hung on when he felt the strong, iron arms both clamped onto him and steer him away at the same time. Eventually they lost their inner battle and settled to clamping on him.

He closed his eyes, content.

_I knew he'd come for me._

The wind died, but the feeling of strange peaceful euphoria did not go with it. The iron arms trembled just a little bit, before losing all control and crushing Ryou into their embrace.

"_Ra…"_

At the harsh, quiet tone, Ryou smiled, closing his eyes in contentment. From the feel of the sun's dying radiance and the soft glow against his resting eyes and face, he could tell that night was nearly upon them.

"I'm coming back with you," Ryou whispered, his voice very quiet but equally certain. "I'm coming back."

There was a soft silence, and the sun disappeared entirely. Ryou opened his eyes a crack, the cool sea of starry skies and navy thick darkness. He could feel Marik's heart beating in against his chest, and his against Marik's. A continuous circle, a united circle.

"Marik?" The soft whisper came through, unsure as to the other's silence. "…"

As though snapped out of trance, the other came alive, his strong arms crushing Ryou even closer in their embrace. Ryou didn't mind and wrapped his arms tighter around Marik's chest, shivering slightly when he felt the strong hands beginning to caress him in slow, firm circles, the fingers spanning deeply along his skin. Ryou moaned ever so softly. The fingers would massage and ease away, massage and ease away, as though the other was uncertain of how to take care of his new, special gift.

"Are you sure?" the deep voice rang softly in Ryou's ears. He felt Marik lean his head just an inch against his. "Is this what you want?"

Again, the prickles came at the edges of Ryou's eyes, but he tried his best to hold his tears at bay. Instead he closed his eyes again, and rested his head against the soft but secure crook of Marik's neck, nuzzling it with assurance.

"A promise is a promise," Ryou whispered, "remember? I promised you I'd never leave, remember?" He raised his head softly, yearning to look into the deep purple eyes, but the other's head was lowered, so he could only admire his cheek. Ryou smiled and, with an unsure hand, brought his fingers up and trailed them lightly down Marik's cheek.

"It was a long time ago…" Ryou stopped his fingers and looked down too. "When we…first met."

"I remember," Marik replied, though his voice was distant, as if he bringing back the memory right then and there. His grip tightened and Ryou smiled immediately. "I remember."

Feeling his heart rise, Ryou turned his head and rested his cheek on Marik's chest. His eyes rose up, admiring his companion.

"I want to go back with you," Ryou said firmly. "I want to go back with you. Being with you makes me happy. Spending the rest of my life with you makes me happy." He closed his eyes and gently raised his fingers to Marik's cheek, and turned the other to face him a little. He opened his eyes again, and looked straight into the dark, amethyst depths before him.

"I want to be happy with you _together._"

_BAM._

It was a strange explosion, but the second Ryou ended his sentence, the whole world before them blew into a bright, blinding whiteness. He could still feel Marik's presence with him, the other against him. He could feel the protective grip around his torso, as Marik had always held him. He decided to not resist against the blinding flash of life, content as long as Marik was with him.

The next moment, as abruptly as it had come, the whiteness faded, and darkness swam in Ryou's eyes. He grew afraid, but he could feel Marik next to him. Automatically, he shifted closer to Marik, and was comforted when he felt Marik tighten his grip too.

_"The time has come, Marik."_

Though Ryou couldn't see it, Marik was well aware of his surroundings. The darkness returned as the dark, hallway of 'limbo' in front of Anubis, the dull and dreary cavern from which the death god took his throne.

For the first time, Marik smiled, even though his eyes were still wicked in their triumph. But he was genuinely happy that he won, that Ryou was with him, that Ryou was there at all.

"Yeah," Marik said casually, "I guess it has."

He felt Ryou stiffen next to him at the sound of his voice, and turned his attentions to Ryou. The smaller one's big brown eyes were curious but astray, not focusing on anything in particular. Marik raised a hand and directed Ryou's chin towards him, presenting the soft, beautiful lips. Ryou shivered a little, and made a soft noise, as he wasn't sure what Marik was doing. Marik thumbed a little at Ryou's bottom lip, feeling its petal-softness. Ryou smiled and turned his cheek into Marik's hand.

"It is you, isn't it?" Ryou whispered, as though he had to make sure, even though he didn't need to ask. Marik smirked, but it was a smirk of wryness, of affection.

"Who else could it possibly be?"

Ryou's small smile turned into a full grin, and he closed his eyes, happy, resting against the security of Marik's grip and chest.

Almost smiling, Marik turned to face Anubis again. Anubis, opposite of Marik, looked grim and stood. The golden scales stood behind him, weighing on each side before finally becoming equal.

"He has chosen to stay with you," Anubis said slowly and carefully. "Is this his final word?"

Suddenly unsure, Marik faltered a little, and turned to Ryou. Ryou, seemingly have heard Anubis's words, frowned a little. Marik lost his smile.

"You sure you want to go back with me?" Marik asked, his voice quiet but serious. Ryou looked uncertain for the briefest of moments. Marik clarified again. "If you come back with me…you won't see everyone here for a while. Are you sure you'd…" Marik silently sighed, choosing his words carefully. "…Are you sure you'd be _happier_ with me?"

Though Ryou had looked uncertain for the briefest of seconds, his reply seemed confident.

"…Yes," he said, quietly but clearly. His eyes filled with a sort of sad reminiscence, but his smile was happy. "I'll miss everyone, but they've been gone for a while…At least I got to see them again." He turned to Marik. "I'd rather go home with you."

"Neither of you will remember these occurrences anyway," Anubis spoke up, his voice booming effortlessly in the dark throne room. "Mortal boy, is this your final word?"

Ryou frowned a little, as though he was unsure who was addressing him.

"…Yes," he said.

Anubis smiled grimly. "Then it is done."

The silvery, ghostly chains snapped themselves off Marik's wrists, and dissipated into the darkness. Marik held onto Ryou tightly, but before everything could magically disappear, Anubis held up a hand.

"However, there is one more thing…" He faced Marik seriously. "You, Marik. For you to return back to the human world, there is one thing we need to fix."

"What's that?" Marik asked, feeling irritable that he wasn't getting home as soon as possible.

Anubis's grim smile turned grimmer. "You must be human, in order to return to the human world."

Sighing harshly, Marik growled a little. He was sick of all this talk implementing that he was not human and did not deserve Ryou's love because he was born of darkness.

"Patience, devil-child," Anubis mocked gently. "A redemption into humanity only requires something important to you. Something _other than_ Ryou that is important to you – are you willing to sacrifice it to live with the mortal boy?"

At the mention of his name, Ryou perked his head, looking around blindly. A sacrifice? Marik would have to sacrifice something in order to bring Ryou back?

"Marik-…"

"Hush," Marik silenced Ryou. "Something important to me?" he echoed to Anubis.

Anubis smiled again, though this time it was crooked. "Nothing comes from nothing, you know."

Sighing harshly, Marik made a face and debated internally what he could give up. Nervous, Ryou tightened his grip on Marik.

"Don't," Ryou said softly. "If you have to give up something -…"

"I don't care what I have to give up," Marik interrupted Ryou harshly. Ryou quieted.

"But what if it's your _life_….?" Ryou asked weakly, as though he had not dared to.

Marik closed his eyes. "My life isn't particularly important to me – especially when you're not there." He looked towards Ryou straight in the eyes, though Ryou couldn't see him. "Let me figure out what I have to sacrifice for you."

Obviously, Ryou did not like that idea, but he stayed silent anyway.

The inner conflict continued as Marik thought through it. He knew, with a dawning realization, what had been important to him all his life, even before Ryou's entrance into his fate. Marik made a face and felt his insides turn cold and the thought of it. Without it -…he'd be nothing…he wouldn't even be Marik if he hadn't possessed…

Marik clenched his fists.

No more power…no more manipulation…no more status. Everything he had built to remain all-powerful and dominant…everything that made him superior…omnipotent…

Everything that had given him what he was…

_..power…_

He clenched his fists again. He gritted his teeth. This was it. Was it worth it? Giving it all up for …as Anubis said…this mortal boy?

But then he felt Ryou's warmth against him, and saw Ryou's sad eyes directed to the floor. Feeling a strange warmth in his own chest, Marik eased his expression of frustration, and sighed knowingly. He wrapped his arms around Ryou and brought the other tenderly close to him.

He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. This was it.

"I give up the Shadows."

Again it happened.

_BAM._

Again the world swirled around them both, blinding flashes of light. Marik hung onto Ryou as they began to descend, feeling themselves falling. Ryou curled up immediately and Marik automatically held him close. The distorted and swirling image of Anubis began to fade away, as though being smudged out of reality and into the back of the most distant memories.

_A wise choice, Marik,_ the dark voice echoed slowly around them. Anubis's voice grew distant. _A very… wise… choice…_

The whiteness about them kept on swirling. Images of what had been and what they had seen began to distort and fly away, as though being pulled away from them as they fell by the sheer force of their rapid descent. Marik tried his best to hang on to the image of dark hair and amber eyes, but they too, distorted and slid away from his grasp, their features becoming blurrier and blurrier, until they disappeared into the whiteness entirely.

_You will remember nothing,_ the sounds swirling about them. _Nothing as destiny balances itself, as fate realigns._

In the distant, Marik started feeling Ryou being loosened off him. As they fell, he tried to grab Ryou, but the light was so blinding he could not see where he was groping. There was a faint cry from Ryou's lips as he was torn away from Marik, his arms spanning out, reaching desperately for his love. Marik struggled to get closer but their fingers barely brushed against each other's before they fell, separately, to their own routes of fate.

_A life … of what had meant to be… of what you and only you…deserve…_

Marik grunted but couldn't hear his own voice. He grabbed onto whatever memory of what he had seen preserved in his head – especially something very important, something about white hairs and dark red eyes and happiness and sadness -….

_…A second chance._

The memories were ripped away, and darkness swarmed Marik's eyes, and he could see no more. He was not even sure when he hit the ground.

* * *

Marik was the first to wake.

The tendrils of golden light were bothering the content darkness in his eyes. He growled blearily, wondering who the _–uck_ could have bothered him at this early an hour. His head felt like as if he had been hit by a truck and run over several times.

But as soon as he even gained somewhat semi-consciousness, the headache disappeared, and his whole body was filled with a sense of pure relief and relaxation. It was as though his body had slept peacefully for thousands of years, refueling his blood and exciting his well-rested sense.

It was when he cracked his eyes open and noticed the thin line of gold in the horizon rising did he remember.

Immediately awake, he snapped up straight, forgetting his brief sluggish repose. Sand and the smell of dust and dry flowers met his nose, rocks and alabaster bricks scattered in the distance. A mouse was sniffing at the small, broken black bottle at the base of Marik's hand.

Flinging back the mouse from the potent contents of the black bottle, Marik immediately looked around him. He located the slumped form of pale white, and immediately shoved his way over to him.

"Ryou." Marik pulled himself as close as he could get to the other. The small one had not awakened. He shook Ryou harder. "Ryou…RYOU!"

The gentle face did not respond, still looking as blank as it had in death. Marik felt his guts tighten, his chest stiffen. He felt his world slowly cracking apart.

"Ryou-…" He wrapped his arms around the smaller one, holding him close and cradling his torso in his arms. "RYOU!"

At last, finally, a movement. The small nose twitched and began breathing. The eyelashes fluttered a bit. The body began to stir. Marik's heart exhaled in relief.

"Ra…Ryou…"

And, ever so slowly, the chest began to rise and lower in soft, gentle breaths. The pale lips parted for air, the eyelashes trembled before fluttering open. Milk brown eyes swam into Marik's view, unfocused, weary, and sleepy. Marik nearly smiled. There truly was something beautiful of those soft brown depths when they shimmered.

Regaining consciousness, Ryou blearily turned his head towards Marik, as though uncertain of where he was. When he saw Marik above him, Ryou's expression melted into a warm smile.

"Hi…"

This time, Marik did smile, though one wouldn't have been able to tell as he brought Ryou close to his chest and buried his face in Ryou's hair. At the sudden embrace, Ryou gasped, but relaxed, smiling broadly, closing his eyes in total contentment.

"You're alright," Marik breathed. Ryou nodded sleepily but happily.

"Yeah…yeah I am," Ryou whispered. He gently hugged Marik. "Where…are we?"

In response, Marik raised his head. Golden amber light shimmered over Ryou's face, and his eyes crinkled to block out the sunlight. When he realized what was going on, Ryou's eyes opened widely, and he grinned, eyes a lit.

"Oh Marik," Ryou whispered breathlessly. "It's—"

Marik, having watched as the sun slowly rose from the horizon and into the sky, nodded.

"It's the sunrise."

The two of them quieted, sharing a soft, special secret that no one else in the world would have understood. Without a word, Marik picked Ryou up, leaned the other against him, and faced the endless sands towards the sun.

Ryou smiled, resting his head on Marik's chest, enjoying the growing warmth.

"It's beautiful," Ryou whispered simply.

It took a while for Marik to answer. He was just beginning to understand the concept of watching something as ordinary as the sun rising. But when he felt the familiar tendrils of warmth and softness he had felt – granted, only a few times before – his eyes twinkled distantly and he smiled faintly.

"Yeah," he said, quietly. He gently wrapped an arm around Ryou. "Yeah, it is."

* * *

Whoa, majorly sorry for the lack of updates, but I finally managed to write this alright chapter.

Sorry for the bad transitions, I was working on the big scenes and had totally forgotten how to make the small transitions work. So sorry if Ryou's a bit OOC, a little dazed, and a little un-logical. At any rate, I hope to make Ryou a little less girly from here on end, and Marik a little softer but not sappy in any way. I hope you all enjoy this chapter and I hope this makes up for the extremely long lack of updates I've been having. Thank you all for being such wonderful readers!

Although I know I don't deserve it, please **read and review!**

**Btw, it is not the end yet. **Does anyone think it should be?


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